


A Very Jimmy and Thomas Christmas

by raelee514



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-02
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2019-02-09 08:52:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 43,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12884367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raelee514/pseuds/raelee514
Summary: But his arm was killing him.  What the hell did he do?  He lifted his left arm up and looked at his forearm.  There was a bandage on it, covering a rather substantial portion of his forearm.  He frowned at it, and his stomach lurched.  His brain suddenly recognized the pain and the itchiness for what it was….He’d gotten a tattoo.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay. Wanted to do something Christmasy with Thomas and Jimmy. Cause I love Christmas and also Decemeber is when I first started watching and writing these two last year. So, Christmas fic... Goal is to finish this on Christmas Day... which, I'm laughing at myself already, but we'll see what happens (hopefully you guys won't mind if it takes longer, doubt it'll be shorter, I'm too wordy for that.) 
> 
> knullabulla your prompt idea is kind of in this, totally isn't what you asked for but is how my brain took the thoughts and twisted it into something else. 
> 
> silkcoeur your ideas will be in this as well.

December 1st

Pain pricked at Jimmy’s skin, a constant painful tingle like his arm has fallen asleep, but it’s too intense and itchy. And it’s waking him up along with the cheesy and loud lyrics of Deck of Halls. It filtered through his slightly open bedroom door and playing much too loud for his hungover head. He groaned as flickering memories of drinking shots after shots at the bar with Alfred. It’s all far away from him and feels more like he watching rather than re-living. The music was too sharp, and pain waved through his head taking away from the pain his arm for a split second before it pings back. 

His reflexes were slow and he winced at the music, went to cover his ears, and winced at the pain his arm. Jimmy groaned and rolled onto his back, eyes opening and blurry, he stared at his ceiling and tried to recall more. Then he sighed as he remembered why he’d called Alfred and dragged him out to drink on Thursday night. 

Thomas. 

No. Jimmy refused to think about it. He wasn’t going to think about it. He’d gone drinking to forget about it and push it out of his mind. It wasn’t something he could change. There was nothing to do but accept it. As much as the thought made him want to throw up and punch things. He’d gotten drunk enough to forget most of the night, that was a win wasn’t it? 

But his arm was killing him. What the hell did he do? He lifted his left arm up and looked at his forearm. There was a bandage on it, covering a rather substantial portion of his forearm. He frowned at it, and his stomach lurched. His brain suddenly recognized the pain and the itchiness for what it was…. 

He’d gotten a tattoo.

“No, no, no,” he muttered and shot up straight in the bed. He shifted into a sitting position and stared at the bandage and tried to remember anything about a tattoo shop. He glared at his arm and shook his head. Horror paralyzed him because it was all a blank. All he remembered was drinking shots and Alfred’s grumpy face. Why hadn’t Alfred stopped him? This wasn’t happening? He stared at the bandage, and the horror of not knowing what was underneath it became his only reality. 

He went clammy. He shivered, and all he could feel was the pinpricks of the needle, and he knew, he knew it wasn’t some simple tattoo. He wasn’t going to drunkenly tumble into a parlor and point out some Chinese symbol on the wall. It wasn’t his style. It wasn’t who he was… 

He looked at the tattoo on his right forearm. Black notes with the lyrics that went with him. The first song he wrote, the first song he recorded. It was important. It mattered. It meant something, and he promised himself. All his tattoos would mean something. He cringed at the thought of breaking that promise but his heart thumped in his chest and instinct screamed at him that hadn’t broken the promise. 

Jimmy took a deep breath and was about to start pulling off the bandage to look beneath it when a voice shouted his name. “Jimmy?” 

It was his mother. Which was wonderful. It wasn’t like his day could get any worse. But it also explained the Christmas music. It was her and his step-sister Ivy. They were decking out his flat for Christmas for him -- which he tacitly gave them permission to do every year. Because he loved Christmas but was allergic to the work of putting up decorations. 

“Jimmy.” She pushed his door open fully. “It’s past noon, don’t you have lessons today?”

He groaned and fell flat onto his back. 

“Have you been drinking?” she asked. 

“Yes,” he muttered. 

“Aren’t you getting too old to be carousing around on weekdays.”

“Mum,” he muttered. 

“Get up.”

He sighed and knew he had to listen. He did have lessons. It was his last lessons of the year. All his students were not coming back until after the New Year. He groaned though as he realized it was Friday. That meant Sybbie Branson was coming at precisely 3:15 pm and with her would be Thomas. He shoved Thomas out of his mind as quickly as he rose up in it and rolled out of his bed. 

“What happened to your arm?” his mother exclaimed.

“Shit.” He’d forgotten. His brain sluggish from the hangover and apparently could only handle things one at a time. He looked at his mother and then at the bandage and let out a long sigh.

“James?”

“It’s a tattoo…” he mumbled, and he stared at it and felt his cheeks flame in embarrassment. 

“Please tell me you did not get drunk and go get a tattoo?”

Jimmy looked from his arm at her and just gave her a look.

“When will you grow up,” she sighed and walked down the hall. 

He supposed his actions pointed to never but decided not say it out loud. Even if she was out of earshot. He looked down and realized he was wearing the jeans worn last night — he remembered putting them on because they showed off his arse. He laughed wryly at that and realized he’d been thinking of finding a one night stand… 

As if he would…

He sighed and shook himself. 

“Jimmy,” his mother voice came down the hall. “I’ve made you coffee.” 

It sounded good, so he stumbled down the hall of his flat. Cringing as the syrupy Christmas music got louder. He blinked when he reached his living room, everything but his piano had been rearranged to make space for the pine tree that seemed to take up the whole room. Ivy was on stool applying liberal amounts of tinsel to the branches. He frowned at it all and then turned toward his kitchen. His mother handed him a mug of coffee and then ruffled his hair. 

“Mum.”

“So, what is it?” she asked. 

“What’s what?” Ivy asked from the tree, and her cheery voice felt like knives to Jimmy. 

“He got a tattoo.”

“You what? When?”

“Last night,” his mother said. 

“Is he hungover?” Ivy asked.

“Why are you loud?” he asked her. “And yes.”

“Were you drunk when you got it?” Ivy laughed.

Jimmy sighed. 

“Well, what is it?” his mother asked. 

His stomach lurched, and he worried the coffee he just inhaled might fly back up his throat. He looked at the bandage, and his heart was in his ears. “Um…”

“Oh, my God! You don’t know,” Ivy screeched, and she scrambled down the ladder and rushed into the kitchen. 

“James,” his mother was exasperated. 

“Well, was drunk wasn’t I…”

“On a Thursday?” Ivy said. 

“People get drunk on weeknights…”

“You’re teaching little kids piano all day,” Ivy laughed. “Even you are usually smart enough to know not to get hungover before that.”

He glared at her.

“Guess, I was giving you too much credit… come on, let’s see it.”

“Yes, let’s,” his mother agreed and gave him an amused smile.

“No,” he said. 

“No?” the two woman repeated. 

“No.” 

“Aren’t you curious,” Ivy asked as she peered at the bandage. “Good sized one, isn’t it… it hurt.”

“Of course it bloody hurts…” he muttered.

“You have to look eventually,” his mother said. 

“And I will… but not now.”

“Oh, pfft…” Ivy reached out and pulled off the bandage.

He let a yelp of pain as the bandage pulled on his arm hair and left his sensitive skin exposed to the air. But then he was staring at the tattoo and wishing a rift in time and space would appear in his kitchen so he could duck into it and never been seen again. 

“Oh, my God!” Ivy was giggling, and she seemed far away from him. Like he was watching her through water. Her laughs were echoing in his ears, and it almost didn’t seem real. But she was giggling, wiping at her eyes with one hand and pointing at the tattoo. 

His mother’s head was tilted, and she looked from it to him. An amused but sad smile formed on her face and she shook her head. “Oh, James…”

It wasn’t happening. He closed his eyes and counted to ten. It wasn’t real. If he kept his eyes shut, he’d stop hearing Ivy having a field day, and he wouldn’t feel his mother’s eyes on him. Judging him, feeling sorry for him and being amused by him. They were always laughing at him, and it wasn’t funny. This wasn’t funny at all…

This was horrific and what the hell was he going to do? He reached the number ten. His eyes opened, and the tattoo was still there, and he blinked at it. It was beautiful. And it should be, he thought, because it wasn’t his artwork, it wasn’t the tattoo artists work either… 

It was Thomas’ clean lines and beautiful artistry. How the hell had Jimmy managed to get it onto his skin? He stared at it and knew he had a knack for art, and he had this piece of art in his mind, burned into it because he was proud of Thomas accoplisment. 

Pain laced through his heart, and he let out a long exasperated breathe. Guilt wound around the wound he was feeling his soul as well. It was a mess, a mess, and he couldn’t let anyone see it. No one else could see it, and he startled at the thought and quickly pressed the bandage back over it. Pressing down hard at the tape, to get to adhere back to his skin. 

“This is awesome.” Ivy was still giggling.

“It is not and you're sworn to secrecy,” Jimmy snapped. “Both of you.”

“But…” Ivy laughed.

“Ivy,” he hissed. “No one hears about it. NO ONE.”

“Okay, okay…” she held up her hands. “But you don’t have to get me a present now, this was good enough for me. Great Christmas for Ivy…”

He groaned and knew for the rest of his life he would be hearing about this — maybe she wouldn’t blow his secret, but she’d find a way to mess with him about it. He was doomed. Horror hit again, and he felt his skin heat up, the embarrassment was real. 

“It’s beautiful,” his mother said.

“It’s… I’ll have to get removed.”

“Oh, don’t be hasty.”

“Mum! He can’t see it… No…”

“Would it really be bad if….” She started.

“NO,” Jimmy shouted. “It’d ruin everything. We’re friends… it’s fucking prototype!” He felt sick and confused. “I don’t even…” he turned and hightailed it back to his room. 

Closing his door he felt a small rush of relief his mother hadn’t followed him. He looked around his room and after a few scans spotted a black plastic back that the name Griffin Tattoos in silver embossed on it. He grabbed the bag and pulled out the sheet of how to take care of the tattoo, a tube of cream to use on it and a piece of paper. It was a sketch, not in his hand — he’d been too drunk for that he was sure, but he’d done way too well of job describing what he wanted to the tattoo artist apparently — and that tattoo artist was obviously gifted. 

Though why wouldn’t he have described it perfectly…. He’d only been creating the damn thing in his head for over six months. Since the second Thomas show him his first sketches of the pocket watch — his pet project, his dream really to bring them back into style. Production was starting on the watch in the new year, and here Jimmy gone and put it on his damn forearm.

Only it was worse than that…

He pulled at the bandage and peeked at it, with one eye, a part of him afraid to look, afraid to acknowledge. But on the hour hand was Thomas’ name in gold ink… Making it stand out against all the black ink. He slapped the bandage down again and spun around the room looking for his cellphone. He needed to kill Alfred. This was Alfred fault. No this was Thomas’ fault. Jimmy’s heart was pounding….

He was screwed.


	2. Chapter 2

December 1st

“Are you going to tell me?” 

“Mum, I’ve got a student showing up in ten minutes.” 

“Plenty of time for a chat.”

Jimmy pulled the sleeve of the green jumper he tossed on. He chose it because the arms were too long and usually that bothered him, but today it felt like the perfect armor. He felt the sting of the tattoo and wished that it would fade. He wanted to forget it was there, he needed to forget it was there — he would get rid of it. That was what he had do… 

The thought made him sick. 

The tattoo was beautiful. Like Thomas’ sketches of the watch. Bold roman numerals, the face of the watch a spiral, a bit like the inside of a tree, circles that spoke of unending time and the hour and minute hands twisted themselves in tiny spiral corkscrews. Jimmy had fallen in love with Thomas sketches, he seen the first prototype of the watch himself, held it in his hands and heard it tick. It was Thomas pet project, the first he was leading all on his own, and he was excited. It was going to start selling in the new year and was going to be announced just after Christmas. 

It was all top secret. It was a mission of love for Thomas. Jimmy loved it too — it was why in his mind he kept seeing it on his skin, seeing it something Thomas loved in bold lines against his skin… 

It was a guilty thought. A guilty pleasure. A what if tattoo that would never happen. Because it only could happen if they were together, it would be a showing of love and a promise of forever.

One Jimmy could never give Thomas. They were just mates. It was the way their lives fell together. One of them was always in one direction, and the other was pointed in the other. They were just mates. It was a strange friendship. But it fit for them. 

They were just mates. 

Jimmy looked at his forearm, and it was like he could see through the cloth of his jumper and the white bandage. It was on his forearm. Thomas’ dream, his guilty wish, and his heart was rushing in his ears. 

“James?”

He looked up at his mother. She was leaning on his kitchen counter, a mug between her hands and shaking her head at him. “I don’t want a lecture on my age…”

“You’re almost thirty.”

“Two more years,” he scowled. 

“You got drunk last night and got a tattoo.”

“I’m always getting myself into messes…” he muttered.

“I suppose I should be happy there was no man or woman in your bed…or both…little favors.”

He cringed. 

“Though when was the last time you went out on a date?”

“Not that long ago,” he lied.

“Luv, you have Thomas’ name on our skin.” 

He really hoped she wouldn’t bring that up. 

“And that was a watch was it not?”

“Mum…”

“I’ve seen the two of you together, you know.”

“Well, we’ve been friends for years…”

“I think he’s quite taken with you.”

Jimmy rolled his eyes. “No, he’s not….”

“I think…”

“He’s back with Philip,” he said quickly before his mother decided to go on about the crush she was so certain Thomas had on him. He couldn’t hear it, not now, he was tired of hoping it was true. And it wasn’t, of course, it wasn’t, not when he would get back together with that dick. 

“What?”

“Last night. He texted...he said he was getting drinks with him.” 

“Jimmy?” his mother was staring at him.

He felt hurried away from her gaze and started to gather up the materials he needed for his first student of the day. “My lessons start soon, you don’t want to be here…” 

“Honey?” his mother’s voice was pure concern. 

He sighed and turned and knew he was caught. 

“Is that why you got drunk?”

“I was…” he laughed because he wasn’t going to do anything. He’d just been entertaining the thought of doing something. They were finally both single, both very very single. Thomas had been making some noise about feeling alone for the holidays and Jimmy started realizing for the first time since they met, neither of them was with someone. No Philip for Thomas, No Anstruther or some stupid fling.

A door was finally open. 

But he was too gutless. He had never said anything, he kept quiet and kept telling himself he had time. Time. He laughed and glanced at his forearm and started laughing. He was too afraid of ruining what they did have, he would never have said anything, and now it didn’t matter. 

“You need to tell him.” 

“What?” Jimmy turned and looked his mother. “Are you daft?” 

“Jimmy talk to him.”

“No.”

“Well, what are you going to do then? He’ll see it eventually?”

“Not if I get rid of it…” Jimmy snapped, and his stomach lurched at the thought. 

“Oh…” she shook her head and walked towards him. Jimmy felt horror at the thought she was going to hug him, he couldn’t handle it, he'd fall apart like some kid and become some loser guy who needed a hug from his mom. He stepped backward and felt a shot of pure relief when the doorbell rang. 

“Lessons here,” he yelped and ran toward the door. 

“Isn’t his goddaughter’s lesson today?” his mother asked, he voice knowing. 

“Mum…”

“Think about it, don’t just keep hiding this from him…” she sighed and kissed his cheek. “I’ll go out the back way.” 

He watched her disappear through the door and felt nothing but relief, which doubled when the doorbell rang again, and he hurried to the door to let in his first student of the day. It was time to do his job and teach a future generation about music. He’d forget about that tattoo, and he’d forget about any of his wishful thinking when it came to Thomas Barrow. 

~~~

Thomas slumped in his desk chair and rubbed his temples. He drunk way too much last night. But he smiled nonetheless when he thought about it. The night hadn’t turned out at all how he expected it to, and he was quite pleased with his decision. He felt a lightness rush through him, and he started to smile. If anyone saw him right now, he might get called out for actually looking happy. 

He wouldn’t go that far, and his smile faltered. He shifted in his seat and pulled out his cellphone. He frowned at the lack of text messages and felt the pleasantness that was buzzing in his chest take a bit of a nosedive. He guessed you couldn’t have everything….

“Mr. Barrow?” his secretary’s voice buzzed into the room through the intercom. 

“Yes,” he asked. 

“You wanted me to remind you have the meeting about the pocket watch at 4 today.”

“Right…thank you.” Now he was irritated. He'd been irritated because as hard as he tried he just couldn’t figure out out a way to get the meeting to be earlier in the week, nor earlier in the day. And it was important, it was more than important, and he grinned again. He was making it happen, a new pocket watch was going into the market with the Barrow name stamped on the back — but not just any Barrow name. It would have a T for Thomas, rather than the Z or R that went with most Barrow watches on the market. He was finally making his mark, he was finally a true Barrow. A clockmaker, a watchmaker, he was somebody. 

But Sybbie. He would see her tomorrow, anyway, like always but it bothered him not taking her to her lesson. That meant no dinner with Jimmy. And he loved Friday night dinner with Jimmy and Sybbie. It was always the highlight of his week, and he hated not being able to make it. His cellphone was still in his hand he frowned again at the lack of messages before he opened up one to Jimmy.

It was simple to call up his name and type a quick message. Warning him that it would be Mary dropping off Sybbie and not him and asking him to let him know if maybe they could get together Sunday. He felt like he hadn’t seen Jimmy in ages… And realized that it been last Friday, so it been the three of them and that wasn’t quite the same as getting Jimmy Kent on his own. When had they hung out before that? He had been too busy lately but he reminded himself it was all for a good cause 

His pocket watch. He smirked and shoved his phone into his pants. Speaking about his dream project, it was time to do some of the hard work involved. He had to get down to the lab because the final prototypes were being made this week. The watches were going to be handcrafted, they would be made to order, and they all carried with the precise and delicate mechanics. He was going to be making one, on his own — like he had the first and second attempts. This one was more special though, more important. It was a final product, and it was also to be designed to a specific order. 

All the watches would have the spiral design of course, but each one was a little different because the spirals were like snowflakes. No design precisely the same and that was why he wanted it to be spirals in the first place. A million possibilities and a way of offering men and women something unique. 

But the one he was going to making this week had a bit of a twist on the design, it was the first piece to be given a customer chosen redesign — even if Thomas himself was the customer. It was important, it was not only proof his design was adaptable, but it was also meant for Jimmy. 

He wanted it to be perfect. So, he wasn’t trusting it to anyone else, no matter how much he trusted his handpicked staff. No, this one was all his and only his…. 

He pressed the button for the elevator and felt a stab of doubt in his chest. He shook it off though, no he wasn’t going to think about it. He wasn’t going to let doubt stop him. No overthinking and no worrying. Jimmy helped him with the design, even if he wasn’t aware of doing so — Jimmy listened to him grouse and complain. He answered his phone when Thomas called him in the middle of the night panicking that he couldn’t bring the watch to fruition. He had looked at his sketches, he had asked questions about watch-making to help Thomas’s brain stay on track. He told him he should do it, that nothing should stop him from creating exactly what he wanted to…

Jimmy was getting his own watch. One that with musical notes and it’s own small alarm that was the refrain Jimmy had tattooed on his forearm. He wasn’t going to overthink why because it was nothing more than a thank you. It was a thank you. 

He stepped into the elevator, and his phone buzzed. He hurried it open and frowned a bit when it wasn’t Jimmy. He shook his head seeing who it was and decided he better answer Philip’s question. It helped Philip to see things in black and white. So, he quickly typed out that he was 100% sure of his decision and hit send and smiled. Pride settled on his shoulders, and he felt free as it hit again the milestone he managed the night before. 

He was very pleased with himself. 

~~~

Ivy was right. He did know better than to teach music to kids ten and under with a hangover. Usually. His head felt heavy enough to roll off and his neck felt stiff. He moved it back and forth, trying to loosen the muscles and heard it crack. He looked at the time and felt two things at once.

More horror about the tattoo on his arm and a zing of impatience because it was almost time for his favorite student. And well, his favorite parental figure — Thomas. He paid for and therefore brought Sybbie to all her lessons. They all would go out for pizza, or spaghetti, or if Thomas really felt like spoiling Sybbie, it was ice cream. Which it always was the last lesson of the year. It was how it all began, their friendship, Sybbie wanting him to come for ice cream and not letting Thomas or him saying no to it.

And it started a tradition, and it gave Jimmy probably the best friend he ever had. He looked at his forearm. Or well at the jumper covering the bandage. He felt the urge to peek at again, to see if it really what he knew damn well it was…

Thomas’ watch. With the minute hand on the three and the hour hand on the three, creating a figure eight, due to the spiral of the clock hands. It said it was 3:15. An alarm went off on his phone, and he looked at it.

Sybbie Branson 3:15.

His doorbell rang. He looked at the door and stared at it. He willed it to open but the doorbell rang again but it was followed by Sybbie’s voice going. “Just open it, Thomas does…”

The door opened then, and Jimmy found himself looking into the eyes of Mary Crawley, Sybbie’s aunt rather than Thomas and felt everything inside of him turn to lead. If he wasn’t here, that meant he was probably busy, and there was a possibility it was with Philip. Who was he kidding, he was with Philip. 

“Hey Sybbie,” he managed to say and hoped he hid his disappointment. Sybbie started talking a mile a minute about her lessons like she always did and he fell into hanging out with her easily. She was his favorite student because she tried the hardest and her hard work gave her a sound foundation to coax things out of the music most little kids never could attempt. Sybbie was different, he knew her better than most of his students. She was his friend, even if she was seven but that also meant she knew him. And twenty minutes into her lesson she looked directly at him with her big brown eyes and asked him. 

“Why are you so sad today? Is it because Aunt Mary had to bring me?”

“What no?” he said, and it wasn’t a lie. It was a disappointment. Everything was a disappointment. 

She stared at him and looked unconvinced. 

“What? Keep playing,” he said and pointed at the piano.

“I bet he’s sad too.” 

“Well, we usually do get ice cream, for Christmas.”

“Aunt Mary promised to get me a sundae… You can come, she won’t mind.”

Jimmy shook his head.

“You don’t like her, do you?”

“What? No, I like your Aunt.”

“Not as much as you like Thomas. He likes you more than her too…”

“Sybbie,” Jimmy pointed at the piano keys. “Play.”

She nodded and started playing again, finally.


	3. Chapter 3

December 2nd

Thomas flopped down into the comfort of his couch. A quick glance at his watch told him it was midnight. On the dot. His hands felt a bit cramp from all the small details of work put into his watches. But it meant something to him that real hands were part of the process, and his hands were going to be part of it despite the time it would take out of his day. Especially for that specific watch. He frowned at the time, Jimmy popping into his mind more directly, rather just in the abstract as he tried to personalize a watch for him. 

It was getting worse. He thought maybe over time things would fade, but instead things got more vivid and more frustrating. Thomas tried to remember the last time they spoke. He picked up his phone and glanced at his messages. No text from Jimmy. Disappointment and hurt slammed into him. He thought about last night, sending out the text and how he hoped, hoped he get a text back telling him not to be an idiot. 

It surprised Jimmy hadn’t. He hated Philip. More than most and that was saying a lot because Philip inspired dislike. It was once something Thomas liked about him, related too but Thomas had softened over the years. It was Sybbie, he wanted only good things for her and somehow around her, the bitterness in his heart lessened. 

_And you met him_ … His heart whispered it, and Thomas sighed. He slouched on his couch, and his eyes fell onto the sliding glass doors that led to his balcony. It was snowing out, and he blinked. He hadn’t realized it was forecast and it seemed like it never snowed in December anymore. But there it was snowing, and he stood up. He flicked on the outside light, saw the spiraling falling whirls of crystalized ice. His gaze went further out, and he caught some twinkles of red and green. 

Christmas he thought, and he shook his head. He never liked Christmas. It usually meant impersonal presents from his father’s secretary with her faking his signature to write from father on the tags. No one was fooled. His father and he found a common ground — a love for horology. It was their only common ground. They weren’t close and never would be. But he was retiring soon and entrusting Thomas with the business. 

And that made warmth bloom in Thomas’ chest, it was a bit bittersweet, but it was enough. They were in a good enough place, and he wasn’t a concern. He frowned and realized he needed to start buying his presents. Sybbie being the most important — nothing impersonal for his goddaughter. Jimmy — was the watch enough. No. That wasn’t about Christmas. It was about being grateful for his constant friendship and support as Thomas nearly clawed out his hair with all the pressure he was putting on himself with the pocket watch. 

There was Tom — his other best mate, and he was sure how the hell that happened other than love for Sybbie. Mary, who he begrudgingly liked and Daisy he supposed, thinking about his across the way neighbor and another odd source of friendship. 

He watched the snow swirl for a while and then turned, cell phone back in hand and brought up Jimmy’s number. If he wasn’t answering texts, maybe he’d answer the phone. He hit send and settled back down on his couch, finally kicking off his shoes and loosening his tie. Thomas felt another wave of disappointment flow through him when Jimmy’s voice was suddenly in his ear. 

“Hello.”

“Hello,” Thomas said. “Sorry about no ice cream today.”

“Don’t worry about it. Busy right?”

“Yeah…” Thomas said and shifted in his seat. “I’m taking Sybbie tomorrow er today for some, want to come?”

“Uh… can’t.”

“Why?”

“Busy.”

“With?”

“Stuff…” 

Thomas pinched the bridge of his nose and shifted in his seat. He suddenly felt uncomfortable in his skin because the conversation felt stilted. Which wasn’t them, that wasn’t what they did. Jimmy was one of the few people he could…. Talk with. Even when it wasn’t about anything at all. He fought to try to find something to say, something to ask to get a conversation flowing. He felt sweaty suddenly and at loose ends. 

“So, yeah… can’t…” Jimmy muttered.

“Maybe next week?”

“Maybe…. Count up to Christmas, you know how my Mum and Ivy are…”

“Right…” His mother and Ivy. He mentally added them to his list of people to buy presents for. They were Jimmy’s but he knew them, he even liked them, though Ivy could get on his last nerve with her incessant cheeriness. 

“So…” Jimmy mumbled.

“What?”

“You know…” his voice sounded distant and a bit angry. 

“Are you mad at me?” Thomas blurted out at hearing it, and the fear of it scared him. 

“What? No. Your life isn’t it?”

“What?”

“I gotta go.”

“Jimmy wait…” Thomas called out, but it was useless the call was ended. He stared at his phone and felt a spike of anger of his own. What was that, had he really just hung up on him? What for? Was he angry at him? But what the hell for? He thought back to last week, the three of them eating spaghetti and talking about Sybbie’s lessons and listening to her talk about her friends and the school play that she wanted to audition for because she wanted to be a bear. They’d laughed and dropped her off at Tom’s and then gone out for a drink. 

Everything had been fine. More than fine, he was sure they were flirting — they always did, always had but it was getting louder, more overt, more on purpose. He had been pushing it a bit, he pushed it that night, and he was almost sure maybe Jimmy was responding. But he was terrified of Jimmy possibly returning his more intense feelings. 

He sighed. The thought of losing Jimmy as a friend terrified him. They had something that was rare for Thomas. Something he never thought he have, and never expected to find in his goddaughter’s piano teacher. But that was Jimmy. He’d opened the door for that first lesson and not been at all what Thomas been expecting. He thought it would be some older man, stodgy and maybe good with kids. Not a charismatic young man with shining blue eyes and flirtatious smile and the most beautiful creature Thomas ever seen.

He was like mythological creature and Thomas’ first thought been to despair that he was in a relationship. It wasn’t the first time he found himself wishing he wasn’t with Philip, but it was the first time he felt irritated he wasn’t free. Not that Jimmy been free at the time, in an odd relationship with an older woman — flighty and easily bored Sally Anstruther. But Thomas couldn’t blame her for wanting Jimmy in her bed. 

He could blame her for only seeing Jimmy as a boy toy, however, and he never been happier when he found out they broke up. But then Jimmy was dating some guy — Thomas didn’t remember his name. The only good part of that been finding out Jimmy was indeed bisexual and that it hadn’t lasted. But it long enough for Thomas to break up and then get back together with Philip. They were never free at the same time, but throughout it, all the friendship grew, and flirting happened…

It was game. It was fun.

But lately, it felt more real. At least to Thomas. He was alone in it, and he felt pain. It was sharp, and it hurt, it was right in his chest where his heart was and the headache he been fighting all day bloomed and his temples throbbed. It was never going to happen. Him and Jimmy. 

His phone rang, sitting in his palm where he yet to put it down after Jimmy ended their call. He jumped at the sudden intrusion of sound, and it fell. The ringtone was Jimmy’s voice singing one his original songs. The tone of his voice, something that usually made pleasure flow through Thomas hurt. But he was calling Thomas back, so he dove for the phone, pushing it under his coffee table in his hurry. He hit his head on the wood as he flattened to the floor and grabbed the phone. 

“Hello,” he said desperately afraid he hadn’t beaten his voicemail. 

“I’m not mad.”

“Your not?”

“No…not really.”

“Ok.”

“I just… I had a bad day.”

“Did you? Do you want…” Thomas cringed, he was horrible at this part of friendship. 

“Not really… you know how I am. Got drunk, did something monumentally stupid.”

Jealousy made him suck in his cheeks, and he tapped his fingers against the coffee table and realized he was still on the floor — he thought he should get up but couldn’t find the energy. He forced himself to sound light. “So, what’s their name?”

Jimmy’s laugh was in his ear, usually a sound he loved but it hurt. But it also sounded off, strange in a way Thomas couldn’t place. “Not that…”

“Oh. What then?”

“Uh… got a tattoo.”

He laughed then — for real, for the first time since they started talking it and it felt something lifted off of him. It was happiness there hadn’t been someone in Jimmy’s bed. “What is it?”

“It was… a mistake,” Jimmy’s voice was a mumble.

“It ugly?”

“It’s beautiful…” Jimmy coughed. “I mean… it’s just not…”

“Are you okay?” Thomas launched himself up to his feet, worry suddenly the only thing he could feel. If he wasn’t mad at him, something else was wrong. “Jimmy?”

“Thomas…I just… why?”

“Why what?”

“Philip.” 

“What about Philip?” Thomas asked. 

“You shouldn’t… no, it’s none of my business.”

But it was his business, Thomas' heart pounded. Yesterday he’d wanted Jimmy to stop him, tell him not go — tell him he owed Philip nothing. He wanted Jimmy to want him not to go. 

“How was it?”

“The drinks?”

“Yeah?”

“Normal…” Thomas sighed. “It was Philip. He talked about himself the whole time.”

“Yeah, well he’s a dick.”

“I know.”

“Do you?” Jimmy asked. “Cause…”

“Of course I do…”

“But you went.”

“You were….” Thomas swallowed the rest of the sentence. No Jimmy stopping him was just his fantasy, he didn’t need to hear what Thomas been expecting. It was an unfair expectation.

“So, then…”

“What?”

“He give one his bad lines?”

Thomas chuckled.

“Guess so then…”

“Yeah, it’s Philip.” 

“So, the usual then?” Jimmy said sounding oddly resigned.

Thomas felt lost. 

Jimmy sighed. 

“Could we meet up for lunch tomorrow, I know you said you were busy but it’s been a while since we got a drink…”

“Huh?”

“I want to see you,” Thomas’ voice broke and he hoped Jimmy didn’t hear that, but he felt desperate suddenly. He was missing something, and Jimmy wasn’t acting right, and he didn’t understand why. 

“I… yeah, yeah,” Jimmy breathed into his ear. 

Pleasure shot down Thomas' spine, and he closed his eyes. “Good.” 

“I do have to get up early…” Jimmy sighed. “Mum is starting on the shopping…” 

“Right, yeah, I have to go into the office tomorrow… But lunch? Usual place?”

“Yeah. 2?”

“2, sharp…” Thomas said, and this time when Jimmy ended the call, he didn’t lose his breath. He dropped his phone onto the couch and walked back over to his balcony. It was covered with snow, and it glistened and glimmered. He smiled at the beauty of it and watched more snow swirl down from the sky. It was calming, and it helped to siphon off the tension that built up in his shoulders at the strangeness of their conversation. It felt like something was between them, and Thomas didn’t understand what it was.


	4. Chapter 4

December 2nd 

Jimmy wiggled his left arm, trying to fight off the itchiness of the healing skin. He slathered it with the cream he found in the bag and kept telling himself he was going to look up tattoo removing on the Internet. But he’d opened his laptop over four times now and not typed in the search once. He wasn’t putting it off, he told himself. He was just busy. He frowned as he tried to walk through the crowds. Everyone seemed to be walking at a snail's pace, looking at window displays, dawdling. It was annoying. Jimmy was freezing because he hadn’t realized how the temperature had dropped, he had no gloves or a hat. It was snowing, lightly and their ice from the snow the night before that crunched under his feet.

It felt like December. Which was nice, he thought. Because it felt like that special winter feel took longer and longer every year. It was nice to have it so early in the month. It was at least something good, and he sighed and tried to gather up some enthusiasm for seeing Thomas. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see him… Oh, he wanted to. Too much. He felt giddy about it, and that made him want to turn tail and run because he was going to end hearing about him and Philip. Off and on as always and it was probably how it was always going to be — Thomas could do better. Not that he thought he was better — well he did think he was better than Philip. He might be a bit of arsehole and a dick himself, but Jimmy knew he cared about Thomas. Philip would always care about himself first — Dick. 

A man and woman stopped short in front of him and started kissing. He nearly plowed into them, his feet skidding on ice but somehow he stopped short and didn’t destroy their moment. He froze for a moment, watching them, they were oblivious the world around them. They were both smiling wide enough, Jimmy was sure it must hurt — but when you were that happy, you never cared. They kissed like it was the first time and Jimmy half wondered if it was. He smirked a bit and watched them, watched the snow land in their hair and on their jackets. 

Someone bumped into him from behind, jolting him out of his reverie and he realized was being a bit a dick, watching such a private moment like it was a show. He felt the jab of jealousy at their happiness as he walked by and realized they weren’t close to stopping — so wrapped up in each other. He wondered what that was like, to be so lost in another person and then he thought about Thomas. 

It’d be easy. His heart lurched, and he felt the tingle of the tattoo, reminding him, telling him… If Thomas would look at him like that if Thomas would kiss him like that… He could forget everything around him. But it wasn’t going to happen, and his mood plummeted as he reached the small diner where they always met up for sandwiches and tea. 

He headed right toward their usual booth and felt a bit stunned when he saw Thomas. It’d been a week, which wasn’t all that long but it’d felt longer if he was honest. It was part of why when he’d gotten the text he was going to go for drinks with Philip it’d hurt him. Jimmy texted him to see if they could do something, missing him and not wanting to wait until Friday. 

And he hadn’t seen him yesterday anyway. 

Thomas smiled when he saw him, and Jimmy tried not to let the dimples get to him. But they always did and the way Thomas’ red lips twisted into a smirk rather than a simple smile. Always something more going on under his skin, behind his eyes. He was dressed casually, well for him, since it was a Saturday. Pale gray button down shirt and a black blazer, his wool pea coat was on the seat of the booth next to him. Jimmy looked at the coat enviously. He was freezing in his black leather jacket. He slipped into the booth across from him and met Thomas gaze. He was always hyper-aware when they made eye contact, he was quite sure he knew Thomas’ eyes better than his own. It wasn’t normal, was it? 

“What’s that?” Thomas asked his hand reaching out and touching Jimmy’s left arm for a split second, his eyes on the white bandage that was sticking out. 

Jimmy quickly pulled the hem of the arm over it and cursed himself for letting his sleeves rolled up when he shrugged out of his jacket. He told Thomas about the tattoo over the phone. He hadn’t meant to, but the truth came flying out of him anyway. He was a good liar, especially lies of omission but sometimes he found himself unable to pull any of it off when faced with Thomas Barrow. 

“Is that the tattoo?” Thomas sounded surprised… “How big is it?”

“Enough…” Jimmy muttered.

“Let me see it?”

“NO!” Alarm made him shout, and he instantly regretted it because Thomas was staring at him with both worry and curiosity. “It…it… was a mistake…” he stammered and wished it would start sounding true. It was a mistake, he thought again and pushed aside all the parts of himself that yelled that calling it a mistake was lie. 

“Well, now, I’m more curious.”

“Just drop it, okay?” Jimmy snapped. 

Thomas eyed him strangely, shook his head but it morphed into a nod. “Fine.”

“Good.”

“You look freezing.”

“Wasn’t expecting snow, was I?”

“Yeah… feels like winter in December, for once.”

“Probably be too warm again by the end of the week.”

“I hope not… like this feels more like…”

“Christmas?”

Thomas grinned.

Jimmy smiled in return. 

“You two want your usuals?” Mrs. Patmore appeared at their table, herself. Usually, she was behind the counter, in the kitchen, shouting things at her staff — it was entertainment. It was one of the main reasons they came to the diner, that and if Sybbie was with them, they got free cookies and hot chocolate. 

“Yes, Mrs. Patmore.”

“No little one?” she asked looking disappointed.

“Sorry,” Thomas said. 

“It’s good for you two to get out alone now and again then isn’t it,” she winked. 

She thought they were a couple. From the first moment, they walked in with Sybbie a few years ago. Neither one of them ever corrected her, and it struck Jimmy as strange. That it never occurred to him too, but he was thinking it now because it was getting to the point where it bothered him that was a lie. 

“It. Is, yeah…” Thomas said to her in an odd voice. 

“WILLIAM…” Mrs. Patmore was yelling as she walked toward the kitchen, shouting their orders. 

“Maybe someday we should tell her…” Jimmy heard himself say.

“Tell her what?” Thomas asked. 

“You know…” Jimmy hedged. 

Thomas' mouth dropped open, and he shook his head. “No.”

“No?”

“Why does it bother you?”

“No.” He said it too quickly and tried to cover with a shrug. “I mean it’s just… we’re lying.”

“It isn’t lying if she assumes… she gives us free things.”

Jimmy laughed. Thomas was a penny pincher, and he found it absurdly endearing and a bit aggravating. “You do know you’re made of money, right?”

Thomas blushed and shook his head. “My father’s money…”

“Your business too… more than his soon enough.” 

Thomas grinned, and Jimmy felt a rush at the sight of his dimples again. “Yeah… can’t happen soon enough, I have… Things I want to do, he’d never approve of, but we need to be smart if we want to keep having an edge in the market. Especially as technology continues to advance while we try to stay old school… More old school the better I think but…” Thomas rolled his eyes and stopped talking for a beat. “I won’t bore you.”

Jimmy chuckled and thought he couldn’t. There was no way he could. “How is pocket watch launch shaping up?”

“Good, good, working on the final prototypes for showing them off….” Thomas gave him a long look and opened his mouth but was interrupted by William showing up and dropping off their orders. Along with a small bag. 

“Cookies for your daughter,” he said. “Special Christmas gingerbread.” 

Thomas winked at Jimmy across the table, feeling vindicated by the gift. Jimmy rolled his eyes but grinned back at them. They both knew Sybbie wasn’t going to get a cookie. He only didn’t feel guilty because he knew later Thomas would be spoiling her. 

“How was her lesson?” Thomas asked as William walked away.

Jimmy started fixing his tea and grinned. “She’s brilliant I mean I think so… might be biased given she’s my favorite.” 

“She should be your favorite,” Thomas grinned. “I’ve gotten tickets to take her to an ice show in January, you wouldn’t want to come with us would you?”

“Ice show?”

“Skating and stuff, it’s for kids but seemed fun. You don’t have too…”

Jimmy sipped his tea and told himself it wasn’t a date. It wasn’t. Sybbie would be there, and he knew he was only being asked because they had a thing, where they hung out with her, as well as each other. It used to be just her, but as their friendship grew it branched out. But the both of them always pulled her back into the situation. 

He wanted more times when it was just the two of them and they were friends. They did things but Jimmy was greedy, and he was getting tired of pretending. “Yeah, give me the dates, and I’ll see.”

“Yeah, don’t remember it now, I’ll text you…”

“So…” Jimmy took a deep breath and decided to get it over with. The sooner he heard the details, the better, the sooner they discussed Philip, the sooner they could stop discussing Philip. “Back together with him, huh.” 

Thomas choked on the bite of ham sandwich he had in his mouth. He coughed and grabbed his tea and took a long sip. “What?”

“You had drinks with him and…”

“We’re not back together, are you mad.”

Jimmy stared at him and found he didn’t believe it. He couldn’t believe it. Of course, they were. It was what always happened. It was why he’d called Alfred and then drunk too many shots of whiskey. It was why he felt jealous and out of sorts and kept wondering if he could stand this friendship any longer. 

“Why would you?”

“Because you go for drinks and get back with him. Every fucking time,” Jimmy spat out harshly, surprising himself with the venom but the tattoo tingled and itched. 

Thomas stared at him and started fiddling with his fork. It clinked against the plate. He shook his head and opened his mouth but shut it, then sighed. “I guess… maybe that’s fair.”

“No it’s not,” Jimmy said because nothing about it was fair. 

“But that’s not what happened this time…”

Jimmy blinked. “Really?”

Thomas nodded and met his eyes, and Jimmy felt his insides flip, there was something new and vulnerable in the look he was getting, but then it was gone, and all he saw was Thomas’ usual level of clever. “I…” he sighed. “Maybe it started like it always does with him. I didn’t want to say yes but… I guess why I did say yes was out of habit. But… He was so dull, Jimmy. He was dead boring. He talked about nothing but himself and about thirty minutes in I interrupted him and lied about having to get back to the office.” 

Jimmy stared at his hidden forearm. Remembered snippets of the night of him drunkenly going on and on about Thomas to Alfred. Alfred who had the sympathy of a teaspoon, who kept trying to cut him off but didn’t have the will do actually stop him. He remembered walking out of the bar and it being cold and then…

He woke up with the bloody tattoo. 

And Thomas had fucking walked out on Philip? 

 


	5. Chapter 5

December 2nd 

Jimmy glared at him across the table, his face twisted into one of his unhappier scowls. Thomas knew them all. He knew most of Jimmy’s expressions and the way he could twist that sinful mouth of his into different shapes and sizes. Thomas wanted to kiss them all, it was always there that want tugging at him. A heat in his lower belly. He felt it now, but he mostly felt confused and for some reason hurt. 

Rationally he understood Jimmy’s assumption and maybe due to experience it was a fair assumption. But it rankled, he’d been different this time after breaking it up with Philip. He'd broken them up this time before Philip cheated — because he saw the signs, he recognized them and knew it was going to happen. He was being ignored again and taken for granted. It was what always happened — Philip wanted Thomas when he thought he could have him and once he got him. He grew bored, and he’d stray, or do something else that would hurt Thomas. And he was sick of it. He was stronger — somewhere in the last year he got stronger. Maybe it was because he was doing more with the company, that he’d been focused on designing his watch. 

But maybe it was Jimmy. 

Because Jimmy was someone who got bored all the time but he never seemed to be when he was with Thomas. And he thought maybe I don’t bore him — and it made him feel special. It made him feel amazing that he could interest someone like Jimmy. Who was always moving, always animated and always needed to be doing something. 

Who wrote beautiful music with depth and clarity that would surprise most people because when they saw Jimmy all they saw was a restless spirit, a young man — a kid. But he wasn’t that, and Thomas knew it, and he wanted Jimmy’s attention. 

Which he had, he realized, in this moment. He had all of Jimmy’s attention, but he was scowling at Thomas and looked like he might take his head off if he said the wrong thing. He started fiddling with his knife again and looked down at his teacup, thinking of drinking some as he tried to get his bearings. He tried not to feel hurt, Jimmy thought he’d go back to an arsehole like Philip —

Hadn’t he made it clear he learned? No, he sighed and did pick up the teacup. He hadn’t wanted to meet Philip, but he’d gone anyway. But he tried not too… He texted Jimmy, hoping he’d tell him not to go, that he’d fight to see Thomas instead. He thought maybe if Jimmy answered his text with a don’t you dare it might mean…

It might mean the flirting meant something. Finally. 

“I thought you knew…” Thomas said.

Jimmy’s glare intensified as his brows furrowed together. “What?”

“I mean I thought you… I ended it last time, right? I didn’t let us fall into that same bad pattern.”

“He called you, and you went running to have a drink with him…” Jimmy accused. 

Thomas looked away because Jimmy was right — but he’d gone for reasons that had to do with Jimmy. Because he said yes and hoped Jimmy would give him a reason to cancel. When he should’ve just canceled and chosen to meet up with Jimmy. Which was what Jimmy wanted and he’d blown off his friend for a twenty minute trip to a tacky trendy bar with overpriced drinks. Philip was out of his life before and after that one drink. 

“It was daft,” Thomas said. “And it was pointless. But he’s out, he’s out of my life. Finally…” he breathed out and smiled. Because it was a relief, it was pure relief. 

“Yeah?” Jimmy said after a beat, his face softening and he seemed to lean further over the table. “You mean it?”

“Yeah,” Thomas nodded, and he met Jimmy’s eyes and felt that tug in his lower belly again, that pull into him, and he wondered why he kept pushing it away. “I don’t want him.” 

“Good… he’s a dick.”

Thomas smirked. 

“You should aim higher, you know…” Jimmy mumbled. 

“Yeah, I think I should,” Thomas said and kept his gaze. “I think…”

Jimmy’s cellphone buzzed on the table and startled them both. Jimmy sighed and grabbed it. “It’s mum…”

Thomas watched him start texting Miriam back and felt the usual spark of jealousy. He was envious of their relationship. He was envious that Jimmy had parents that would do anything for him. His relationship with own father was better but he never even got a chance at a relationship with his mother. He often wondered if she'd be a mother like Miriam Kent. Always there, always a call a way, always knowing what her children were up too but not at all overbearing. Jimmy would complain about her, he whines and acts put out, but he also always took her calls and told her almost everything. Almost because there were just some things mothers couldn’t know. 

“Mind if she stops by here? We’re going shopping — I gotta buy for Ivy and Dad, so…”

“No, not at all.”

Jimmy grinned. 

“Guess that means no ice cream with me and Sybbie later?”

Disappointment flickered over Jimmy’s features, and he shook his head. “No. Probably end up at Mum’s for dinner, you know how it goes…”

“Yeah…” he said and felt hit with the envy.

“You know you’re always invited to dinner, right?” Jimmy said. 

Thomas blinked at him. “What?”

Jimmy laughed. “I just mean, Mum, she’d let you and feed you.”

He felt warm all of sudden but couldn’t stop his mouth from turning up into a smile that felt too grateful. He felt spotted and like Jimmy knew him too well because he was saying the right thing. And it was true. He knew it to be true. Miriam Kent always treated him with kindness that often was at all sure what to do with… in fact he was sure he came across as too aloof and pretentious to Jimmy’s mother. 

“I’m sorry,” Jimmy mumbled pulling Thomas from his thoughts. “About… I guess I should have asked, you know.”

“I should’ve called you,” Thomas said. 

“What?”

“You know when I felt before I even finished my first drink. You’d wanted to do something, right? I should’ve called you, I don’t know why didn’t…” he lied as he remembered why he didn’t call Jimmy. He’d been upset Jimmy hadn’t tried to stop him from meeting Philip. 

“You should’ve yeah…” Jimmy grinned. “I’d say you know better for next time but…”

“There’ll be no next time.”

Jimmy’s grin got wider, and he picked up his tea and motioned with his hand for Thomas to pick up his. “To never ever having to talk about that dick again.”

Laughing Thomas clicked his teacup with Jimmy’s. The two of bent over and chuckling as they took sips and then put the cups back on the table. They looked up and met each other’s gaze again, and Thomas felt that pull. It never left, and lately, it felt stronger and stronger… 

Like it was trying to tell Thomas something. He knew what it was, what it was saying but it terrified him. Because it was Jimmy. His Jimmy. He wondered what Jimmy would think if he told him… If Thomas told him he was the most beautiful man he'd ever seen and only continued to get more and more irritatingly handsome. 

“I got…” Jimmy stopped short. 

“You got what?”

“Drunk.”

“You got drunk?” Thomas laughed, and he reached out and touched the tip of Jimmy’s left index finger. “This about the tattoo?”

“Urrrgh…” he gurgled, and he turned a bright shade of red. Thomas' eyes widened at the sight of an embarrassed Jimmy Kent because it was a rare sighting. He only caught it once or twice since meeting Jimmy and never to this degree. He looked like he wasn’t breathing, Thomas' heart sped up, and he reached out and took Jimmy’s hand.

“Breathe.”

“I am…” but he coughed, and his eyes fell to Thomas' hand. 

Thomas looked at their hands and realized he was holding Jimmy’s hand, but he didn’t pull away. He felt like he couldn’t… like maybe if he did he would miss his chance. A door might slam close, and he didn’t want that to happen. It was the last thing he wanted to have happen. He wanted doors open, and he wanted them open wide. 

“I got drunk…” Jimmy whispered as he curled his hand against Thomas'… Making it so _they_ were holding hands. “Because…”

Thomas tightened his hold and nodded, urging him to continue when…

“There you boys are… why do you hide yourselves way back here?” 

Thomas looked up and saw Miriam heading their way and forced himself to politely smile hello. But he felt Jimmy pulling his hand out of his and it was the last thing he wanted. He felt his fingers try to tighten, rather than pull away but all he hit was air. He pushed down the irritation and moved his hand to his teacup and started to fiddle with it. Turning it left and right. 

Jimmy moved over to make room for her and her bags. Thomas looked at the multitude of bags she had with her and was reminded Jimmy said they were going to go shopping. He shot Jimmy a look, and Jimmy nodded with an eye roll. He shook his head and felt relieved he was going to be dragged on a shopping spree. 

“Thomas it’s been ages, how are you?” Miriam said. 

“Good.”

“Jimmy says your design will be out soon?”

“Uh, yeah, being announced Boxing Day…”

“Well from what I’ve heard from Jimmy, you worked very hard on it so you should be proud. He kept telling me over and over about how beautiful the design is…”

“Thanks…” he said and scratched the back of his neck, feeling his skin heat up, and he tried looking at Jimmy without looking at him. Had he really told her all that? Thankfully, he missed catching Jimmy’s eyes and noticed he was looking out the window, with his jaw clenched a bit as his mother went on. 

“Are you free the ninth, love?” she ended asked him.

“The ninth?”

“Annual Christmas party and I want you to be there, Thomas.”

“Oh. Yeah, sure…” he met Jimmy’s eye, and he nodded. “Love too.” 

“Perfect…” she looked around. “I’ll go to the counter order, you two want more tea or anything?”

Thomas looked at his watched and sighed. “I can’t… I have to go soon,” he glanced at Jimmy.

“Already?”

“As I said, I have the offices open, and I gotta go in… the launch…”

Jimmy nodded and grinned. “You better dot all those I’s.”

Thomas rolled his eyes.

“What, perfectionists gotta you know perfect…” Jimmy chuckled.

Miriam Kent rolled her eyes at them. “Well, I’ll see you Saturday then, Thomas.” 

He watched her make her way over to the counter, where Archie stood before he looked back at Jimmy. Jimmy was smiling at him but looked away when Thomas caught him. It made Thomas breath hitch a little bit, why would he turn away… what was he afraid Thomas would see? He curled his hand around the tea cup and remembered what it felt like curled around Jimmy’s hand. 

“Maybe we could…uh… we…” Jimmy stammered, and his cheeks went red. Thomas stared at him shocked to see Jimmy seem so out of sorts, so not confident and it made his heart speed up. Was he causing that? Jimmy drank what was left his teacup and opened his mouth again. “Finish our conversation later?” 

“You mean…” Thomas darted his eyes from the table to Miriam. 

“Yeah…Mum’s have bad timing, always.”

“I’ll text you,” he said. “When I’ve dropped Sybbie off at home.” 

Jimmy nodded and stood with Thomas he stood up. Thomas pulled on his wool pea coat and put his hands into his pockets for his gloves. He paused though before putting them on. His eyes fell on Jimmy’s leather jacket, which he knew had a broken zipper. “Here.”

The gloves landed on the table. Jimmy shook his head, but Thomas shook his back. “Take them. Look outside, it’s actually still winter.”

He watched Jimmy glance at the snow, he turned back and grabbed the gloves. “Thanks.” 

Thomas shrugged. “Later…” he muttered and walked off before he decided to sit back down. He had responsibilities, and they couldn’t talk the way he wished to. Not with Miriam there. As he passed her, he gave her a sincere smile and nod of goodbye. He turned back when he reached the door, he could barely see Jimmy from it, and it was only the back of his head. But he had to look anyway…


	6. Chapter 6

December 3rd 

Thomas stepped off the elevator and blinked. His neighbor was sitting in front of his door, biting her nails and looking a bit like she was shaking. On most occasions, she reminded him of a bird, and right now she looked ready to fly off into the sky. Which did nothing to explain to him why she wasn’t in her own flat, and he was quite sure there was no good reason for her to be sitting in the hallway and wait for him? He shifted the bags he was holding, having spent the morning getting most of his Christmas shopping done — he wanted to get Sybbie a few more things. As her Godfather, it was his duty to spoil her rotten, and he took it quite seriously, and he hadn’t found the right thing for Jimmy. 

He hoped he could. He was fearing maybe he was being both too picky and too afraid. What if what he chose said too much about the feelings he was finding harder and harder to hide. What if he scared Jimmy off? He frowned at himself and down at Daisy. 

“Hiya,” she said looking up at him.

“Are you locked out?” he asked.

“What? No…” she sighed. “I just didn’t want to miss you. You’re barely home lately. Keep missing you, don’t I?”

“Do you?”

“Yes. You would know. But missing ya…” she laughed.

Thomas rolled his eyes and managed to find his keys and put them in the door. “What is it Daisy?”

“Why does it have to be anything?” Daisy said. 

“I suppose you could just want to see me… but that seems unlikely,” Thomas said. 

“Why would that be…” she blinked at him. “We spent Halloween watching scary movies for no reason whatsoever.”

“You thought that bloke you like was dating some else… that was me attempting to cheer you up. I’m still having nightmares by the way.” He shuddered as he thought of some the terrifying things she made him watch. 

“Oh, none of those movies were that scary.”

“I hate dolls,” he muttered.

“And fine… well, this is about Andy too.” 

“Right, Andy,” he said. “Want tea?”

Daisy nodded. 

“You’re going to make me ask?” Thomas said. 

“His parents live in Downton Village…”

“Lovely place,” Thomas said. 

“It is, very lovely… but it’s not London.”

“No…”

“It’s a trip. And he always stays over.”

“And you’ll miss him?” Thomas guessed.

“What. No… He wants me to go with him!” 

“Oh. That’s nice,” he said and filled the kettle.

“No, you don’t understand!”

“What, Daisy?” he turned back toward her.

“We’ve only been dating since after Halloween… It’s only the beginning of December. He wants to bring me home!” Her eyes went rounder than saucers, and she clutched at the fabric of her oversized jumper. 

“Meeting the parents is a problem?”

“It’s not just like meeting them, it’s staying in their home, under their roof… with Andy.”

“You two have…” he blushed and moved his hands around. 

“Of course we have, I’m not a teenager.”

“You like him right, I mean we went through a lot of ice cream…. That's a thing right?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

“I just… it’s admitting I want to you know COMMIT.”

“Ah and that’s a problem.”

“Yes, Thomas it is! I think. Maybe. I don’t know. I need help.”

Thomas looked around his kitchen and saw his reflection in his stainless steel refrigerator. He looked like he was backed into a corner, which matched how he felt because was Daisy daft. “Why are you asking me?”

“Because all my girlfriends are engaged and think everyone should be too.” 

“And you don’t?”

“I have a career! I went to school for this, I studied and studied until I could do maths in my sleep. I want to keep rising up in my profession. I have to focus on my work. I can’t be a wife yet, Thomas!” 

“Has he proposed.”

“He wants me to meet his family. ALL OF THEM. He keeps giving me all these dopey and soft looks.” 

“Then say no.”

“I CAN’T DO THAT.”

“Then go!”

“I CAN”T DO THAT.”

Thomas glared at her, and she glared back. He was afraid her eyes would go so round her eyes would pop out of her skull. “Bloody…” he walked over to the cabinet he kept all his liquor and pulled out his expensive brandy. He poured them both a generous snifter of it. 

Daisy took it with shaky hands and then drank down half of it in one gulp. He nearly followed suit because he wasn’t sure which one of them needed the alcohol more at this point. 

“Is there something you’re looking for me to say?” he asked.

“No, no. I’m here cause well I didn’t know what you would say.”

“And that’s what you want out of advice?”

“No. What I want is for this not to be so complicated, and I thought, oh it’s Andy. He’s sweet and smarter than he thinks he is and humble. And so tall…” she drifted off dreamily. “This was supposed to be a nice and simple relationship. I wasn’t expected a crisis a bit over a month in.” 

“I don’t think this is a crisis.” 

“He’s moving too fast.”

“Then tell him.”

“Oh…” Daisy blinked at him. “What?”

“Tell him you’re worried it's going to fast.”

“Huh… Do you think that’ll work?”

“How would I know?” Thomas asked her. 

“I just… I kind like that it’s going fast. I like him more than I… well I mean we went through pounds of ice cream. I knew I was in deeper than I wanted to be then… I just wasn’t expecting him to want the whole meet the family thing at the holidays. They have movies about that for reasons you know… DRAMA.”

“Don’t all holiday movies have happy endings?”

“That’s fiction.”

Thomas drank down half his brandy. 

“How is your love life?”

“Nonexistent.” 

“What about that Jimmy guy?”

Thomas sighed.

“You were drunk on ice cream and going on and on and on about his mouth… Don’t think I forgot all of that.” 

“It’s complicated.”

“Perfect! My problem is too.” 

“Who says I have a problem?”

“You just said it’s complicated,” Daisy’s eyebrow shot up. “More please?”

He poured them both more brandy and nodded at her to follow him into his living room. They sat down on his couch and Daisy looked around. “Where are your decorations?”

“I don’t put any up.”

“What? Why?”

“It’s just me here…”

“So. If you celebrate Christmas you should have a tree, it’s just… a law.”

“I don’t think so.”

She shook her head and looked all around the room. “You have a lot of prime places for a good size tree.”

“I don’t own ornaments.”

“I’m just saying…” she settled on his chair and curled up her feet underneath her. “What should I do?”

“I have no clue, Daisy.”

“Me either. I know what you need to do though.”

“What?”

“Tell him you think he’s the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen.” 

Thomas blushed and looked away from her. 

“You should.”

“I can’t tell him that… though,” he smiled a bit.

“Ooh. What?” 

“We kind of held hands…” he said and instantly regretted it. It sounded ridiculous out loud. He sounded like a kid, and it seemed ridiculous to be hung up on a bit of barely there handholding. But his heart thundered every time he thought about it. 

“Really when? Where? Why?”

“Patmore’s. Yesterday. I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

Thomas shook his head and put down his glass. “I just… I was just touching him for a second, to highlight the fact he got a new tattoo. Wanted to know what it was.”

“Considering how much you like his other tattoo, not shocking.”

“How do you know.”

“Drunk on ice cream you went on and on at how the tattoos of notes he has highlight the muscles of his forearm.”

“Do you have an eidetic memory?”

“Just a romantic.”

“Then shouldn’t you go do the whole meet the family, holiday thing?”

“Shh. We’re doing you now.”

“No. Why?”

“Cause I think you already gave me my answer it just… it was so grown up I got thrown.” 

Thomas chuckled. “What?”

“Talk to him… it’s so… Adult. Not sure I can do it,” she giggled. “But it’s right.”

“Right.”

“Which is why you should too… so you touched him about the new tattoo. What is it?”

“I don’t know. He wouldn’t tell me anything about it. Was right weird about it…”

“But you ended up holding hands?”

“I don’t know, I reached out and grabbed hold,” Thomas blushed and slumped on the couch so he could look at the ceiling and not at Daisy. 

“What did he do?”

“He was going to tell me something, it seemed important… It was about him getting drunk. He grabbed onto my hand…” Thomas sighed as he remembered it, feeling Jimmy’s hand and his callouses. He thought about Jimmy playing his guitar and licked his lips. “It was nice, but it was just a moment.”

“A moment?”

“His mum showed up.”

“His mum?”

“Meeting him for Christmas shopping.”

“Oh… so you didn’t hear about him being drunk?”

“No. It doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it does. Sounds like a moment MOMENT. Moments are important, Thomas.”

“Are they?” he looked at her.

“Tell him you love him.”

“What?” Thomas sputtered. “No. No. We’ve never…that would be too fast.”

“True though.”

“You tell Andy yet?”

“No, but I might be telling him soon. You know if I take the good advice and act like an adult.” 

“Huh. Let me know what’s like,” he grinned.

“Shut up.” 

“You came here so I would tell you what to do.”

“More like, so you'd be useless and I figure it out myself. Who knew you wouldn’t be useless.” 

Thomas laughed, and his doorbell pinged. 

“Did you order food? Tell me you ordered food when you got home, I’m starving.”

“No, I didn’t…” Thomas got up and walked across the room. He pulled open the door and instantly he was grinning ear to ear. Jimmy stood there, and he was holding a bottle of Thomas’ favorite wine of all things. 

“Hello,” he said, and he looked oddly young and boyish. 

Thomas nodded and ushered him inside. “Jimmy this is Daisy, Daisy this is Jimmy,” he said, looking over Jimmy’s shoulder his face begging Daisy to behave.

“Oh, so you’re Jimmy,” Daisy said as she stood up and put her empty brandy snifter down on the coffee table. “You are… well, you definitely are beautiful aren’t you.”

“What?” Jimmy laughed.

“Daisy is leaving.”

“Yes, yes I am… you two need to be alone, yes you do…” Daisy walked over to Thomas. He leaned down a bit as she went up on toes and kissed his cheek. “Find out about the tattoo,” she whispered — loudly. 

Jimmy groaned. 

Thomas blushed deeper. “I’m just gonna walk her across the hall…”

“Sure,” Jimmy said. 

Thomas walked with her, a few feet. She opened her door and grinned at him. “Tell him you love him.”

“Talk to your guy, Daisy.”

“Not until I sober up a bit,” she giggled and closed her door. 

Thomas felt his breath catch when he stepped back into his apartment and saw Jimmy standing by the sliding doors of his balcony. He’d taken off his leather jacket and was just wearing a black t-shirt and worn denim blue jeans that molded to his arse. Thomas closed his eyes until he remembered how to breathe and crossed the room. He walked up on Jimmy’s left side and sighed when he saw the bandage. 

“Don’t ask to see it.”

“I wasn’t going too…” Thomas lied. 

Jimmy gave him a look.

“Only because you're being strange about it.”

“She was funny.”

“Daisy? Yeah…” Thomas nodded. “Jimmy, why are you here?”

“Honestly? I don’t know. I was going home, after another way too long trip with my mum to the stores… My dad is impossible to buy for. And well anyway, I just wanted to get home, take a hot shower and drink some beer. But instead, I bought a bottle of that expensive red wine you like and came here.” 

“Oh.”

“That’s okay, right?” Jimmy asked.

“More than,” Thomas revealed.


	7. Chapter 7

December 3rd Ticking into December 4th. 

“Honestly? I don’t know. I was going home, after another way too long trip with my mum to the stores… My dad is impossible to buy for. And well anyway, I just wanted to get home, take a hot shower and drink some beer. But instead, I bought a bottle of that expensive red wine you like and came here.”

“Oh.”

“That’s okay, right?” Jimmy asked.

“More than,” Thomas revealed. 

Jimmy’s face lit up, and Thomas swallowed and looked away for a moment. It was too bright, and it had him thinking about Christmas trees, which he blamed on the season and Daisy lamenting about his lack of decoration. He reached toward his table where Jimmy put down the bottle of wine.

“Already started?” Jimmy laughed indicating his half-finished snifter of brandy.

“Daisy came for advice on her love life. I needed it.”

“Love life advice and you?” Jimmy raised an eyebrow. 

“Hence, Brandy, Jimmy…” he headed toward his kitchen. “I prefer this though. It’s far too expensive.”

“It was on sale,” he felt Jimmy walking behind him. “Remembered liking it…”

“I do have beer…” Thomas offered. 

“Nah,” Jimmy shook his head. “Like I said I like it.”

Thomas nodded and went about opening it. Jimmy leaned his elbows on the counter and watched him as he moved. He could feel his eyes on him, the back of his neck heated up at the attention and he felt oddly self-conscious. Turning back toward Jimmy he hoped his face didn’t give it away. Nervousness was bubbling up inside of him, and he wished he could shove it away. Because it was Jimmy…

It was Jimmy. He never knew comfort and ease could merge with nervousness and the unknown. Thomas grabbed two of his crystal goblets and poured the wine. Jimmy reached out and grabbed his by the stem and spun it around, the liquid swirling in the glass. He watched it, and it made Thomas watch it too… 

“So…” Jimmy coughed. 

“So?” Thomas asked.

“I… have a… well, a confession…”

“I’m not a priest,” Thomas teased.

Jimmy scowled and shook his head. “That’s not… the right word, maybe. I don’t know.”

“Jimmy,” Thomas just shook his head and caught Jimmy’s eyes with his. “It’s me.”

“Yeah…” Jimmy breathed out. 

Thomas frowned and took a generous swallow of the wine, loving the taste of it on his tongue. It was his favorite, and he rarely bought it for himself, something about not wanting to give into temptations too often. Or at all, he thought as his eyes roamed over Jimmy. He was beautiful. He was nervous. He was swallowing a generous gulp of the wine. Thomas watched his throat work and cleared his throat. 

“Let’s…” he didn’t bother finishing the sentence just walked into his living room. He glanced at his couch and sat down at the end of it and hoped Jimmy would understand Thomas wanted him beside him.

Jimmy paused in front of him, standing where he was holding the goblet a bit awkwardly in his left hand. Thomas' eyes fell on the bandage and his curiosity spiked. 

“Gonna tell me?” he asked his hand in the air toward Jimmy’s forearm.

Jimmy sighed and sat down. Dipping the cushions and almost too close to Thomas. Not that he minded, he was happy he got the hint — though he wondered if Jimmy was aware of it or not. Sometimes Jimmy was impossible to read, and lately, Thomas seemed to only see that version of him. He was hiding something from him, and he felt like it was more than a tattoo. 

“It’s not a confession… well, it is… but….” Jimmy clenched his jaw. “I was pissed.” 

“Pissed drunk?” Thomas asked his eyes on the bandage. 

“No…well, yeah…” Jimmy laughed and took a sip of the wine. Then he shifted in his seat and leaned forward and put the goblet down on the table. When he twisted back, he moved even closer to Thomas. He could smell him, the strange orange scented cologne he wore, the leather from his jacket and that thing that was pure Jimmy that usually had Thomas thinking about sunshine — something he'd never admit. Usually, Jimmy was Summer but somehow tonight he felt like winter — there was something different and had been for a while now. The kept skirting around it, and Thomas’ heartbeat started to speed up because it felt whatever Jimmy was about to tell him might change everything. 

“I…I…It’s that…” Jimmy stammered and sighed. 

“What?” Thomas tried to keep his voice low and even. He was impatient because he needed this to be what he wanted and he was terrified it wasn’t. He took a gulp of the wine and felt it and the brandy going to his head, everything was fuzzying up around the edges. 

“It’s not fair, you started without me…” Jimmy murmured. He shifted away and picked up his goblet and finished it off. “I’ll be…” 

Thomas sighed but leaned back where he was sitting and watched him walk away. It was always a good view, and he decided not to be subtle about it — for once. Usually, he snuck small glances and little peeks, trying to hide from Jimmy and probably himself. If he thought too long about how much he wanted Jimmy, it would overwhelm him. He finished off his wine and sat the goblet down. Jimmy was back in the room, but he went over to Thomas’ stereo system and turned it on. Thomas watched him amused as he fiddled with it until instrumental Christmas music was playing lightly in the background. As he turned back toward the couch, Thomas shot him a look.

“Tis the season, Thomas…” Jimmy grinned widely.

Thomas nodded and watched him. Really watched him, move, the swung of his hips and the way his arms moved, how he was holding the goblet of wine — he'd poured himself a generous helping. He sat back down, took a drink of it and put it on the table. Then he leaned backward, sprawling out his legs and his arms. His right arm going behind Thomas head and he turned toward him. 

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi,” Thomas echoed and he turned a bit in his seat so he could look directly at Jimmy. 

“I was mad,” Jimmy said. “About Philip.”

Thomas shook his head. “Thought we were never mentioning him again?”

Jimmy’s eyes lit up, and his right hand seemed to hit the back of Thomas’ neck. Just a touch, a whisper of fingers and Thomas thought maybe he imagined it. “I prefer that, trust me.”

“Then what about him?”

“I wanted you to come over that night…”

Thomas felt guilty. “I know, I’m sorry…”

“No, don’t… not trying to guilt you. I just, I wanted to see you, truly…” his fingers brushed the back of Thomas' neck. A whisper of a touch and Thomas shivered at knowing the touch was real. 

“I…” Thomas opened his mouth.

“Shh…” Jimmy whispered and then the fingers that were at his neck where now on his mouth, pressing his lips to keep them closed. “Let me just spit this out?”

Thomas nodded. 

Jimmy pressed his fingers against his lip for one second longer than they slid away in a smooth motion and Jimmy was twisting to face him better. “I was mad and I… I just knew you were getting back with him. I… maybe that was unfair, but that’s all I could see or think. I was mad, and I wanted to tell you not to go — but I couldn’t send the text or hit send on a call.” 

His mouth started open but then the fingers were back, and Jimmy was scowling at him. “Shh… you promised.”

Thomas nodded and bit the inside of his cheek, hoping it would help him stop from trying to speak. He wanted to apologize, he wanted to tell Jimmy how much he regretted going to meet Philip. 

“I don’t need to hear what you want to say — I get it now. Now that... I was a git, and I called Alfred, and we went to some hole in the wall near where he works…” Jimmy leaned closer. “All I could think about was you and how…” he sighed. “I got drunk. Too drunk. I don’t remember the bloody tattoo parlor at all. Alfred’s avoiding my calls about it I think. Knows I want to blame him and I will… But, it's not his fault. Not why I got drunk.”

Thomas was holding his breath because if he didn’t, he ask the questions that were on his tongue. Jimmy was staring right at him and the dim light of his living room his eyes looked nearly black. But they were shining and spilling secrets at Thomas — only he wasn’t sure what they were. He was hoping, he was hoping so hard, and the silence that fell between them felt both a curse and blessing. Because Jimmy’s next words would mean everything… 

“Wow.”

Confusion made Thomas’s mouth fall open, and he felt a bit spun out. Fear that he was misreading things rose up and he felt his shoulder muscles stiffen. Jimmy shook his head at him and suddenly a hand was on his shoulder, where it met his neck and Jimmy pressed into the muscle. 

“That’s what I thought when I opened my door that day, and you stood there…in a fucking three-piece suit and Sybbie on your shoulders. I thought, wow…” Jimmy breathed, and he was closer, their foreheads were nearly touching. 

“Jimmy…”

“Not done yet.”

Thomas sighed a bit aggravated because he wanted to ask questions, he wanted to be sure he was hearing what he thought he was hearing — and he remembered his first impression of Jimmy. Though he wasn’t sure, he could ever say the soppy thoughts out loud. 

“Sorry… this is… I’m scared.”

Thomas shook his head. 

Jimmy inhaled. “Thing is…. Thing is… I thought. Before I got that text the other night about you meeting up with him, I thought we were… I thought we were being different — a good different. We were. Touching.” He gripped onto Thomas' shoulder. “And you were flirting differently, things felt more solid, and I thought we might. I thought we might finally stop pretending we weren’t attracted…”

Thomas nodded. It was urgent that he nod and he reached out and grabbed Jimmy’s right hand. Jimmy eyes fell to their hands and then back to Thomas' face. He kept nodding, and Jimmy smiled. His forehead clunked against Thomas’. Finally. And a bit harder than both expected and they laughed in unison. Jimmy tightened their handhold and the hand on Thomas’ shoulder fell to his chest. 

“I got drunk cause I was jealous…”

Thomas moved his free hand to the back of Jimmy’s neck and held his gaze. They were good at staring. He could never hold eye contact with other people, but he could stare into Jimmy’s eyes and never felt judged, never felt wrong, never felt misunderstood. And everyone misunderstood him, not Jimmy, never Jimmy. They stared now, and he never felt more grounded and more nervous in his life. They stared and his started toying with the hair the back of Jimmy’s neck, his fingers against hot skin and soft strands of hair. He smiled, and Jimmy let out a relieved breath.

“You can talk now…” he whispered. 

“Oh,” Thomas laughed because he'd forgotten everything he wanted to say and it was only seconds ago. “I… I’m happy you were jealous.” 

Jimmy chuckled and pressed their heads together harder. “Yeah?”

“Yeah…” Thomas nodded. “Be jealous, I always am, I hate everyone who touches you, that I see kissing you. I hate them, Jimmy. Always have.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

Jimmy’s gaze fell to his mouth, and the hand on his chest clutched at his shirt. Pulling and Thomas went with it, feeling the yank and wanting nothing more than to finally feel Jimmy’s mouth against his and it was seconds from happening when his phone buzzed on the table and clinked into the empty goblet and knocked it over. They both turned toward the noise and Jimmy let out a frustrated sigh and all Thomas could think was why the hell was work calling him now? 

“It’s just past midnight, come on,” Jimmy half shouted.

Thomas pinched the bridge of his nose, and he reached for his phone. It was about the launch if someone was calling him their been a crisis and he sent Jimmy an apologetic expression just before he answered it. 

 


	8. Chapter 8

December 4th 

Thomas’ bed smelled like him, some beautiful unnamed scent, everywhere Jimmy turned. It took him a while to fall asleep. Brain fuzzy from another glass of wine as he sat alone in Thomas’ living room. Frustrated and irritating unsure about everything. It wasn’t that expected Thomas to stay. It was about the pocket watch, it was about Thomas’ dream, and he knew nothing was going to stop Thomas from making sure everything went perfectly. He was a perfectionist, and Jimmy found it annoying at times because it went against his own lazier nature but it was something he was drawn too as well. But now he was waking up, in Thomas’ bed, alone with his face scrunched into a pillow and inhaling and thinking it woke him up better than coffee. 

He moved a bit, pushing at the soft blanket that felt decadent to him and looked at the clock on the nightstand. It was an antique, but it kept precise time because Thomas made sure of it and Jimmy thought that for Thomas getting his hands on the inside of clocks was a lot like how he felt when he was at the piano or had his guitar in his hands. Calming. Centering. Head-clearing. It was ticking close to ten in the morning. 

He frowned at the information and pushed his way out of the bed. It was difficult because the mattress was amazing and the sheets were as soft as the blankets. Jimmy was quite sure he was in love with the bed. But he got out of it and looked around for his jeans. He tossed them off before getting into it, finding them he put his hands in his pockets, looking for his phone, but all he found was some change. Hopping into them he made his way into the living room. Their wine glasses and a brandy snifter were on the coffee table, and his phone was on the couch. He grabbed it and saw he had three messages. He frowned as the first two were from his mother, wanting him to pick up a few things for as she readied her house for Christmas and her party. The third was another disappointment as it was from Ivy asking his opinion on a present for Mum. He looked at two pictures of different boots and wondered why Ivy thought he would have an opinion at all on them. He sent her a message saying as much and ignored his mother’s messages for the moment. 

He held the phone and wondered if he should text Thomas, himself. He told Jimmy to stay and touched his face, looking like he was going to bend in and kiss him, but instead he stepped back. And Jimmy been both thankful and disappointed. If Thomas kissed him then, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to let him go, and the facts were he had to leave. He hoped it was why Thomas pulled back and told him to stay, to stay and they’d continue this when he got back. 

Which really should’ve been by now. 

His phone trilled, and hope rose and fell in a matter of a second. He opened Ivy’s message to her yelling at him because his name was going on the present too because he was useless at buying presents himself. He shot he out a message saying he’d just give her present to someone else since he was useless, then he reluctantly told her to get the black boots. Fully expecting that to mean she got the burgundy ones. He dropped the phone onto the coffee table and walked over to Thomas’ stereo system and turned on Christmas music. He wandered over to a window and stared outside. 

It was snowing again, and it made Jimmy smile. At least something was right. It should be snowing in December. He’d be fine with it if the light snows continued all the way to the holiday. It always felt warmer and cozier at the house, most of their family together for once, his mother’s cooking warm and amazing. He realized then he still had to buy Ivy her present and groaned. He knew what he was getting he at least — why break with tradition. He'd find some fancy baking tool and new recipe book. 

A knock on the door surprised him, and he stared at it from where he stood for a beat. Did he answer it? It wasn’t his flat, but it was Thomas’ flat, surely that meant he could answer the door? Didn’t it? He sighed because things were so up in he air…

He thought about last night, unable to stop touching him and Thomas seemingly feeling the same. The near-kiss and the pain and disappointment it wasn’t going to happen. They wanted each other but what did it mean? Jimmy glanced at his forearm, the bandage was wrinkled from him sleeping with it on, but that wasn’t his focus. He knew what he wanted. He knew what the tattoo meant to him because he been thinking about it for months…. Which was crazy because they weren’t together, they still weren’t together? Right. 

There was another sharp knock on the door, and the doorbell rang. Jimmy shook himself from his thoughts and walked over to answer it. Whoever it was he'd just tell them Thomas wasn’t home, it was that simple. Maybe it was some packages from the post or something, Thomas wasn’t one to slack on buying presents. 

The last thing he expected to see when he opened the door was a pine tree, being held by a guy who was possibly taller than Alfred. He blinked at them in confusion. 

“Good morning,” a female voice exclaimed and confused him more. He stepped back and then suddenly realized the woman from last night — Daisy, Thomas’ neighbor was standing on the other side of the tree, practically invisible due to the branches. 

“Um, sure…” he said. 

“We’ve come to decorate,” she said and walked right by him.

“Uh, he’s not home.”

“But it’s not a problem… really he needs some Christmas cheer in here, don’t you think — oh, good, you have music playing.”

The man walked in, giving him a sheepish look. “Once she’s decided something it’s best to just roll with it. I’m Andy Parker, by the way, you must be Jimmy?”

He must be Jimmy? He looked at Andy and toward Daisy, who he heard about a few times here and there but they didn’t know each other. Did Thomas talk about him? What would he say? 

“I think we should put the tree, here…” Daisy said sitting on a chair by one of the larger windows in Thomas’ living area. “So, gotta figure what to do about furniture.” 

“Daisy…” he said. “I’m not sure…”

“Loosen up. This is a present,” she said and shot a look at Andy, and a bright grin lit up her face. 

Jimmy looked between them, Andy had a matching smile, and he shook his head and wondered what a lovesick couple had to do with Daisy’s present. “I just..”

“Do you really think he’ll mind? I think he’d like it. Face it he focuses on work too much.”

“Well, yeah…” Jimmy scratched the back of his neck. “Were you going to break in if I wasn’t here?”

“It’s not breaking in if you have a key,” Daisy grinned. 

Jealousy made him scowl. Why would she have a key, he didn’t have a key — you aren’t with him, Jimmy reminded himself, and he felt defeated. 

“It’s a neighbor thing,” Daisy said, and he gave her a slight smile of apology. 

“There are boxes in the hall with decorations. Don’t worry they’re simple and not tacky.”

Jimmy chuckled at that pictured Thomas’ face if he walked into his room and thought Santa thrown up over all his furniture. He guessed he was giving to Daisy because he was walking to get the boxes. What would it hurt? He thought Thomas should decorate a bit himself, not he ever did his decorations, but they were comforting in a way. It helped you feel that special something that came with the holidays…

A sort of magic. 

~~~

Jimmy stood back and looked at the tree. It was all white lights, with simple crystal ornaments on the branches. He wasn’t sure where Daisy gotten them, but they looked old and well cared for — he thought if she was letting Thomas ‘borrow’ them she must trust him. He smiled at the tree and glanced around the room. White candles with holly wreathed around them on various surfaces, and it wasn’t at all like his own house, with evergreen and bright lights and Santa ornaments. But this fit Thomas, and he was starting to feel better about letting Daisy do this for him. 

“How long have you and he been together?” Andy asked him, pulling him from his thoughts.  
“What?”

“You and Thomas?”

“Uh…” Jimmy sighed. “We’re not.”

Andy’s expression morphed into embarrassment. “Could’ve sworn Daisy said…”

“It’s not…” Jimmy shrugged. 

“Well, uh… hope he isn’t angry about all this, but she got in her head. Wanted to thank him for helping her out.”

“The love life advice?” Jimmy asked because given the million times he caught Andy and Daisy staring at each other with stars in their eyes, he got the feeling their relationship was on the soppy and amazing track for the moment. 

“Yeah… she said he made her see how to be adult about it.” 

“Adult?”

“Grown up,” Andy laughed. “But she was right, so I shouldn’t knock it.” 

“So you two are good?”

“Better than… And she’s agreed to meet my parents, but after the holidays. Neither of us is ready for that… I don’t know what I was thinking inviting her to meet my whole family. We’re still getting to know each other.” 

“Huh…” Jimmy couldn’t help but think about how Thomas knew his mother. Not well. But they knew each other, Thomas was coming to the party on Saturday. He knew Ivy and his dad too, and when had all of that happened? He knew Sybbie, but that was how they met — did that count? He knew the Crawley’s too though and Tom of course…

They weren’t doing things in the right order. Was it from moving too slow? Their timing as messed up, Jimmy thought, and he kept coming up to the wall that he didn’t know what Thomas wanted — not really. He'd come clean to Thomas about his jealousy and learned it was mutual and they’d been touching, lost in attraction and lust. 

He looked at his arm, the tattoo was itching, and he realized he hadn’t put ay cream on it since yesterday. He put the beer he was drinking down and started making his way down to Thomas’ bedroom. He probably had something in his bathroom that he could use. He started pulling away the bandage and thought nothing of it when he walked past Daisy, returning from her trip to Thomas’ bathroom. He nodded at her and went to pass by her when her hand grabbed his arm. 

He froze. Her fingers were like claws, and there was no escaping them. She tightened her grip as she looked at the tattoo and then she looked at him with wide eyes. Jimmy blushed, embarrassment high enough he could taste it on the back of his tongue. He looked away from her, his eyes choosing to fall on the tattoo. Which was healing nicely and he could see more detail in the spirals on the watch face and Thomas name on the hour hand seemed even brighter than it had all the times before. 

“Wow…wow…” Daisy echoed herself, and she dropped his arm, but her fingers were ghosting over his skin and tracing the details. “Isn’t this the pocket watch?”

"Uh… yeah, I must have messed up details, and I mean a stranger drew it and then put it on me but it came out right -- I guess. I mean I don't remember doing this but well…"

"You described it while drunk to someone, and it came out this well?" she asked.

"I think I found a good tattoo artist."

"It's beautiful and amazing… is the time significant?"

He wanted to say no but instead, he nodded. 

"Does he know?" she asked him, her finger hovering over Thomas' name. 

"No," he said. "And I'd like it to stay that way."

"What? Why?"

"Because...It’s…he can't know about this, okay. I was drunk and who knows what I was thinking. It was a mistake…and I…"

"That’s not a mistake," Daisy said. "Not at all." 

"It is, though… I was drunk. I messed up. And…we're not together and this, this looks like…"

"Commitment?"

His eyes widened, and his heart sped up. That was it. That was the thing he kept thinking about and wanting. He wanted it. Him. Jimmy Kent. He wanted Thomas. Not for sex. Not for a fling. No, he just wanted him for the rest of his life. And that was insane because they weren't anything -- yet. They weren't together -- yet. They never kissed -- yet. 

Yet. It struck him that it was a hopeful word.


	9. Chapter 9

December 4th but tick tock… 

Thomas wasn’t quite certain what he was looking at when he opened his door. It was a lot to take in at once. But Jimmy held his attention. He was aware of a tree, lights but all he saw and heard was Jimmy singing a Christmas song he didn’t know, dancing about in the middle of his living room, using a beer bottle as a microphone. He loved his voice, and he loved his bare arms, and he glared a bit at the bandage that was hiding Jimmy’s left forearms — he really loved his forearms. His heart was beating hard and fast, and he closed the door suddenly and with a bit of slam but just kicked it shut with his foot. So he wouldn’t have to turn around. 

Jimmy yelped, and the beer bottle fell from his hand, which made him yelp again as he grabbed it before it tilting over and fell to the carpet, spilling beer. Thomas was relieved and amused. Jimmy scowled at him before his mouth twitched up into a grin. 

“Hey. It’s not my fault…” he said. 

“What?”

“Uh, the winter wonderland?”

It was then Thomas processed the tree in the corner of the room, all white lights and crystals creating flares and rainbows. He stepped forward and saw candles and some sort of green leaves about here and there. Confused he looked back at Jimmy.

“Daisy did it, she said it was a thank you… whatever you told her yesterday seemed to work. That Andy guy is nice, too tall, but nice.” 

 

“Haven’t met him,” Thomas said. “She did this?”

“Yeah… I helped, I mean, I figured you did need some Christmas cheer in here and that you wouldn’t really mind…” Jimmy looked worried. “I mean, I didn’t overstep?”

“No, no…” Thomas shook his head. “It’s…” he looked around again and surprised himself with liking it. “It’s nice.”

“So,” Jimmy scratched the back of his neck. “Things sorted?”

“For the moment, but I have a bad feeling about a few things. Probably be stuck at the office for the rest of the week…. I only…” he trailed off a rush of nerves attacking him. He should be in the office, but he came back because Jimmy was waiting. Because he asked him to stay as he left because he thought maybe he would have been able to get away way sooner. But here it was going on six o’clock, and he just walked into his flat. He was tired, tense and exasperated. And worried and confused. 

“You didn’t have to come back for me,” Jimmy said. 

“I asked you to stay.”

“I like your bed.”

Thomas laughed and realized he was holding his briefcase. He dropped it on a table and started to pull off his coat. 

“I’m serious. A man could stay in that bed for month easy. Maybe a year….” 

Thomas tossed his coat over the closet piece of furniture and walked toward Jimmy, the lights of the tree where behind him and the flares from the crystals were creating some sort of aura around him. He looked beautiful, and Thomas wanted to touch him. But he didn’t, afraid because the moment last night been broken and the conversation been heavy. 

Jimmy was looking him up and down. Then their eyes met, and Thomas felt the weight of his own questions in his stare. He stepped closer but then backward. “Wine?” he asked because he was clueless as to how to start again. 

“No,” Jimmy said, and he sounded annoyed.

“What is it?”

“I’ve been putting her off. All day. Last time I told her I was waiting for you but after… I wanted to be here when you got here, but the truth is, I have to go.”

“Her?” 

“Mum.”

Relief replaced the jealousy that had flared in his stomach. “Oh.”

“Yeah, it’s just… she takes Christmas seriously, and there is the party Saturday — you're still coming?”

“Of course,” Thomas said. 

“Good,” Jimmy smiled. “She’ll be running me ragged all week.”

“The launch for the Spiral be doing the same to me…”

Jimmy frowned. 

“What?”

“We don’t see each other again until the party, are we?”

“That’s bloody irritating.” Thomas shook his head. 

“Yeah…” Jimmy sighed. 

“One drink?” He stepped closer to him and grabbed his hand. “Just one.”

Jimmy eyes trailed down Thomas arm to their hand and then back up again. Then he yanked at him, and Thomas felt his feet stumble closer to Jimmy. Half surprised he didn’t stand on his toes. His eyes dipped to take in all Jimmy’s face before centering back on his eyes, and he smiled. 

“This a yes?”

“I don’t know…” Jimmy laughed. “I’ll stay a bit longer.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Jimmy squeezed his hand. 

Thomas licked his lips, and he felt a pull to kiss him, but he stifled it. It wasn’t the time, it would start things they couldn’t finish. There wasn’t time, and he thought it was quite unfair that he a horologist seemed to be lacking the ability to have good timing. But he swayed more into Jimmy’s body space and inhaled, smelling him, and his nose his blonde hair tickled his nose.

“This sucks,” Jimmy whined, and his hands landed on Thomas' chest, pressing in but not pushing, his palms splaying, and he bent his head down. Hair went up Thomas' nose, and he inhaled it. Inhaled Jimmy. If bright could smell it would be Jimmy’s scent. 

“Hmmm…” was all Thomas was capable of saying but he wanted to say more, and he felt his hands land on the belt loops of Jimmy’s jeans, and he tugged at them. “You told me…last night everything you said…”

“Was true…”

“And I should tell you.”

“What?”

“I’m jealous too, all the time… I told you but not enough. You have no idea. Everyone wants you.”

Jimmy laughed.

“You laugh but its true… everyone is drawn to you,” Thomas sighed. “And I want to tell them all they can’t look.”

Thomas heard Jimmy inhale sharply. “Good.” 

He smiled. “I think…” Thomas searched for the right word, but he couldn’t find it. He was afraid to say too much, he couldn’t declare his love — not yet, not now, he wasn’t sure what Jimmy wanted. All he knew was he wanted it all. All of Jimmy. All he could give to him and all Jimmy had to offer. He'd take whatever he offered. But it was too much too fast?

Even if everything felt unbearably slow because he been waiting for the right time for so long and it was closer, but it wasn’t here, and a sound that was annoyance left his throat, and he heard Jimmy echo it just before he looked back up, and Thomas saw deep blue eyes through eyelashes.

The temptation to kiss him was killing Thomas. He breathed him more deeply, and his hands moved onto to skin, under the hem of Jimmy’s t-shirt, and he swayed closer, and Jimmy’s fingers curled against his shirt, and one of them made an odd choked sound. It sounded like he felt, Thomas thought, but he couldn’t tell which one of made it. He felt locked into something with Jimmy, something that was inevitable and beautiful and maddening. 

“I have to…” Jimmy's voice wavered. 

“Not just yet…” Thomas begged. 

“Yes,” Jimmy whispered. 

That word was beautiful on his lips, Thomas thought, and his eyes were locked on his mouth now, and it was too much. “We can’t start…”

“Never stop…” Jimmy nodded.

“No.”

“Thomas…” it was a whine, and Jimmy grabbed the fabric of his shirt in a harder grip before suddenly loosening his fists and shoving Thomas away. It wasn’t powerful, it was barely there, but Thomas let the motion make him sway and step back. 

One step between them. 

As if that was enough.

They’re eyes met, and they were both breathing too hard. 

Thomas was sure he was about to rush forward and kiss him, but something trilled and Jimmy jumped, startled out of their moment, and was pulling his phone out of his back pocket with an apologetic and frustrated expression in his eyes. 

“It’s her…Mum.”

“Right,” his voice sounded hard. He was annoyed. 

“I have to…” Jimmy mumbled, but Thomas got distracted by his hands as he started to type out a text in response. He reached out and grabbed one the moment they stilled. He felt Jimmy exhale at the touch and their eyes were meeting, and Thomas couldn’t stop himself. He brought Jimmy’s hand to his mouth. He loved his hands he thought and brushed his lips across the back of it. Jimmy's eyes fluttered shut, and he hummed. 

Thomas brushed a few more kisses against one knuckle after another. His breath got caught in his throat, and he couldn’t tear his eyes away from Jimmy’s face. His eyes closed, his expression soft and Thomas sighed as he slowly pulled his mouth away and lowered Jimmy’s hand. 

They let go, and Jimmy's eyes opened, he looked dazed and annoyed. “Um…”

“You need to go.”

“I do,” He sighed. “I wouldn’t... you know it it wasn’t…”

Thomas felt guilt and jealousy kick up inside of him. What he wouldn’t give for his mother and he would never begrudge Jimmy his. Ever. “It’s your mum… I would be the same if it was something for Sybbie.”

A slow wide grin appeared on Jimmy’s face, and he looked boyish and perfect, and it took all of Thomas strength not grab hold and keep him with him, to kiss him and strip him down. Like he wanted too, there was a fire under his skin, and he was amazed he could hold it back. 

But he wanted it to be right. 

And he wanted them to have time. 

Jimmy walked over to the closet and grabbed his coat, he pulled Thomas’ gloves out of his pockets and waved them at him. “I’m keeping these.”

“They suit you,” Thomas said, and he walked over to his door. 

“Yeah, so…”

Thomas sighed.

“You know how to get to mum’s yeah?”

“I do.”

“I have to get there early, you know, that her running me ragged thing…”

Thomas nodded. “I’ll be working…”

“Don’t work too hard, yeah? You look tired,” Jimmy's voice was pure worry, and it did something to Thomas, and suddenly he felt like he was feeling too much. 

“Thank you for…” he looked at his bedazzled apartment.

“Oh, I just let the crazy tiny person in… I like her, Daisy.”

“Yeah, she’s become a friend I suppose…”

“I would say so,” Jimmy laughed. 

Thomas laughed and then they were staring again. He sighed, and Jimmy echoed it. “I should open the door.”

“It would help,” Jimmy said.

“I don’t want too.”

“I don’t want you too.”

“This is…”

“Ridiculous,” Jimmy asked and chuckled a bit.

“Yes….” Thomas swallowed the urge to beg him to stay. 

“Open the door, Thomas,” Jimmy ordered.

Thomas turned the knob and pulled it open. Jimmy nodded and stepped backward through it. He bowed a bit toward Thomas, and a smug grin appeared on his face. “See ya,” he said with a lot of cheek. 

Thomas could stop the wide grin that appeared on his face. “See ya.’


	10. Chapter 10

December 9th 

The kitchen smelled like cookies. Ivy and her father — Jimmy’s father despite coming into his life when was twelve — were baking up a storm. Like they did every year, and it was making Jimmy feel fuzzy and cozy. He wasn’t home often enough he thought as he leaned over Ivy and tried to stick a finger into the icing she was making. 

“Oi…back away from the frosting,” Ivy yelled. 

“Come on, just a taste,” he tried again, and she turned, hugging the bowl. 

“Don’t you have lights to be stringing up outside.”

Jimmy sighed and glanced at the clock. He was running out of time, he supposed it was time to stop procrastinating lighting up the pathway to the house. His mother was hard-core, she wanted twinkling lights to lead her party guests straight up the house. It was always his job since he was old enough to do it — lighting up all the shrubs and trees between their driveway and the front door. He made one last dive for the icing because third was the charm, but Ivy deftly avoided him and muttered about not letting him eat any cookie. 

“As if,” he laughed. 

He grabbed his leather jacket from the closet and pulled out Thomas’s gloves. He stared at them…. Warm, leather, expensive. Thomas owned nothing second hand or shabby. He started at them and felt strange and odd of sorts. All day he was swinging back and forth between excitement and terror of seeing Thomas tonight. They both tried to find a time to meet up before the party, but it never happened. Jimmy busy helping his mum and Thomas busy with his watch launch — and he was excited about it, so excited about it. Which made Jimmy excited for him and he wasn’t worried at all. He knew the watch was going to be a seller, it was going to make Thomas more money and he’d be able to put in more and more of his ideas. Finally taking over the business completely from his father — like he always deserved. 

He pulled the gloves on and felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked at David Stuart and felt something tighten in his chest at his face. He wasn’t his father by blood but was the only one he knew and sometimes, especially at certain times in the year he was reminded how lucky he was — Thomas’ father and he had a begrudging truce because of the business, but not a relationship. Not like Jimmy had with David. And David was giving him a fatherly look, and he felt a bit off-kilter suddenly. What was he giving away?

“Something is bothering you.”

“I’m fine.”

David shook his head. 

“Just…” he looked at the gloves that were now on his hands. Impeccable and obviously not his. 

“Nice gloves,” David said. 

“Their Thomas’…”

“Ah, the infamous Thomas, I finally get to meet.”

“Yeah…” he smiled, but he felt unease bubbling in his stomach. Thomas knew his mum and Ivy, but now he’d be meeting his dad. It felt too important. Too big. He felt trapped. “I gotta get outside…”

“Are you nervous about us meeting?”

“What, no? No.”

David gave him a look.

“Poppa,” Ivy yelled from the kitchen. “Cookie press is stuck.”

Jimmy used the moment to hurry away and make his way to the garage where the lights were waiting for him. Probably tangled despite his efforts to pack them up so they wouldn’t. His cellphone trilled, and he pulled it out his back pocket and couldn’t stop the smile at Thomas’ name. Then he felt another rush as he realized it was a call and not a text. 

“Hiya,” he said

“Hi…” 

“Hi,” Jimmy repeated and moved to sit on the boxes he was meant to open.

“I… have no reason for calling.” 

“Yeah?” Jimmy blushed. 

“Yes… I guess I wanted to… check in?” 

Jimmy closed his eyes and told himself he shouldn’t enjoy someone sounding nervous because Thomas sounded nervous — and it was amazing to him and odd to him. And it made him feel smug. “I’m good with that…”

“Are you busy?”

Jimmy tapped the box underneath him. "I'm supposed to be… if I don't get the lights up to surround the walkway up to the house, Mum might kill me."

"I should…"

"Don't you hang up," Jimmy laughed. "I can procrastinate a bit longer."

"Should I bring anything?" 

"Tonight? Nah. Well, grab bag gift."

"I already have that sorted…" Thomas trailed off. "I, um… bring something for you too."

Jimmy panicked. "What? No, I haven't gotten you a present yet…"

"It's not a Christmas present it's… it's for something else."

"Like what?" Jimmy asked.

"Not on the phone…I…. It's important because you…" he stammered and trailed off. 

Jimmy gulped and felt lost. He couldn't even guess at why Thomas would have some non-Christmas gift for him. And what could it possibly be? He was struggling to find something good enough for Thomas. Sometimes special enough and worthy of him on his limited budget. He was failing, and he knew he had two weeks left, but it felt like time was ticking down. 

"You don't need too," he heard himself saying.

He could hear Thomas breathing, and it took a long beat, enough that Jimmy started to doubt he was on the line. When his voice was low and in Jimmy's ear. "Jimmy, you haven't any idea how much I owe you."

"What?" 

"You'll understand… I should get going."

"Guess, I have to stop procrastinating, huh?" Jimmy said and hoped the fact his heart was pounding wasn't evident in his voice. What was going on? What was he bringing him? He kept trying to figure out what he did to warrant something special. 

He kept coming up blank, and all he could think was Thomas really didn't need to buy him anything to say something -- Thomas wanting him felt like all the gift he needed He kept thinking about the last two times they were together and the charged atmosphere. It felt like the world could light on fire, but they'd be perfectly safe because they were the source of the spark and wrapped around each other. And he knew he would never feel that with anyone else, couldn't feel that with anyone else…

They were just people. Thomas was something else altogether. 

He laughed at himself but couldn't shake off how true it felt. He turned to open the boxes with the lights and realized he really couldn't wear gloves for the job despite the fact it was freezing. He pulled off the gloves and looked at them again all lush and expensive. He sighed without really knowing why, feeling something he wasn't used to feeling and he had no name for it. He shoved it aside, he needed to focus on the lights, and he needed to stop wondering what Thomas was bringing with him to give to him. He laughed because that wasn't going to happen and his urgency to see him again, to be in the same room as him, was growing and growing. 

~~~

Thomas cursed himself for saying anything to Jimmy. But the words fell from his mouth before he could stop them. Maybe it was the whole reason he'd felt compelled to call Jimmy in the first place. The week has been unbearable since Jimmy left his flat a few days ago. He'd wanted to run after him and tell him to forget his familial responsibilities and stay with him. Go to bed with him. Thomas shivered because he wanted it but he wanted so much more, and he was beginning to see that the pocket watch in his hands was a simple of how much he wanted Jimmy. 

He finished it. Jimmy's special design. It was sitting in a box in his hands, ticking away. Thomas watched the second-hand spin and smiled at the musical notes he made blend into the spiral design. He willed it to move faster, bring him to the time to head out to Jimmy's mother's house, to the party -- that made him frown. It was a party, they wouldn't be alone, would they be able to go off alone. He couldn't give him the watch in front of people. It was too private, it was personal, and he felt his body ache at that. At the meaning of it, how monumentally important it was to thank Jimmy. 

And he was saying so much more, but the more he thought about them, about the shift in their relationship and where he wanted to go forward. What he always wanted since he first saw Jimmy and thought _who's this_ because he knew, he knew deep down he was important. In that initial second, he felt like was looking at someone he'd always known.

It'd never felt that before and that was significant wasn't it? He wanted more. He needed more. He needed Jimmy. He wanted it to be forever, and the more he thought about it, the more sure he was he should put that out there. It was a terrifying thought, and instantly he was doubting but they faded quickly, and his decision remained solid. 

He would give Jimmy the watch, and he would put his heart on the line. 

"You look serious."

He jumped and found himself looking at Phyllis Baxter. One of his most valued employees and someone he considered a friend. "I was just…"

"Daydreaming?" she asked and looked at the elevator. "It's opened and closed twice." 

"Has it?" he blushed. 

"You finished it," she said, indicating the box. "I love the musical bent, is this the first custom design we're going to offer?"

"No, no, not at all. This is… a unique design for someone…. Important."

"A lover?" she asked with a bit of impish grin. "I thought you and the Duke broke up."

"It's not Philip, he never would've…" Thomas sighed. "It's for my best mate." 

"Quite a Christmas gift for a friend."

"It's not his Christmas present…" Thomas said. "It can't be, I have to give it to him, now. I can't wait, I feel impatient for it."

"I see…"

"He's… I want him to be more. I'm sure it's mutual."

"Good time of year to get together with someone," she said. "My fiance and I met at Christmas party last year. He spilled champagne all over himself and well…" she chuckled. "He's a bit of klutz, but he was so endearing." 

Thomas took in her smile and thought he'd never seen her look so radiant. 

"Anyway," she said. "I'm sure he'll love it."

"I'm not worried about him liking it…" Thomas admitted. "I know he loves the design, he won't expect the musical notes, but he knows the design as well as I do… he could probably describe it in his sleep, just like me. He'll love the watch."

"But you're worried about something?" 

"I'm declaring a lot when I hand this over… I'm sure about him, about who he is to me, what we could be…"

"But you worried he doesn't feel the same?"

"A bit… But not enough to no take the risk. Am I'm daft?"

"No, that sounds rather brave." 

Thomas shook his head.

"Well." She lifted up on her toes and kissed his cheek. "Good day, Mr. Barrow, I will see you Monday…" and she got on the elevator.

Thomas took a deep breath and knew he needed to wait for it come back up -- one last time. He looked at the watch and thought about all the nights. All the nights he was at Jimmy's or Jimmy was at his, and he kept going on and on and on… from the first spark of creation to the last artistic and mechanic drawings. 

Jimmy been there for all of it and never once looked bored and was consistently encouraging. No one. No one ever did that for him, in all his life. No one was simply there for him the way Jimmy always was… 

Always.


	11. Chapter 11

December 9th 

For once in his life, a crowd of strangers wasn't fraying his nerves. Now this time it was all about Jimmy. He couldn't help but look at the lights as he walked up to the door, a group of people ahead and behind him. They were beautifully draped. He loved Jimmy's artistic eye, though Jimmy was always saying he was better with words than anything else -- and Thomas loved his lyrics because they spoke to his soul. His throat felt suddenly dry as he said hello to someone who introduced himself as David, making Thomas realize he was Jimmy's father. Which made him still and gape at the man and he flushed, feeling foolish but couldn't manage to stop. 

"And you are?" the man said amiably. 

"Thomas… Barrow. Thomas Barrow." 

"Thomas," the man grinned and held out his hand. "Finally. Last one to meet you, how it always goes."

Thomas gripped his hand and said hello again and couldn't stop himself from searching the area around him for Jimmy. 

"He's in the kitchen trying to steal food out of the pots and pans."

"Feel free to go back, it's straight through the living room here," David said and turned to open the door again. 

Thomas took a moment to catch his breath. Seeing a pile of presents, he dropped the wrapped snowglobe he bought for the grab bag onto it. He pushed his hands into the pockets of his pea coat and felt the box. The pocket watch in it and sighed. When he parked his car, he talked himself back into giving to Jimmy. It was an easy argument, because not giving it to him as soon as possible just felt wrong. But he was nervous, and he wasn't sure of anything. He looked around again, spotting through the crowd of party guests the door that might lead to the kitchen. Brightly lit room lay behind the doors, and it felt like a good omen. He took off his coat and found a free hook on the coat rack being offered -- the last one, another good omen, he thought. The pocket watch could stay in the pocket. 

For now. 

Nervous he started toward the kitchen and nearly walked right into Ivy. She held a tray of assorted drinks and grinned at him. "Merry Christmas, Thomas."

"Ivy," he said.

She looked at the tray. "Pick your poison."

"Isn't that for Halloween?" he asked but picked up a glass of red wine and took a generous gulp of it. He was happy to find he liked it and decided it was another good omen. "Is he?"

"In the kitchen mooning over you, yeah," Ivy said. 

Thomas blushed and quickly looked away from her. 

"Like you, two have been fooling anyone," she muttered and walked on to other guests. 

Thomas drank more of the wine and felt a bit relaxed when he felt it going to his face already. It was warm and relaxing. He could breathe, and maybe that would continue when he saw Jimmy. He walked over and into the kitchen. Somehow David had beaten him to the room, and he was pulling a plate of gingerbread cookies out of the oven. Jimmy's mum was bent over a punch bowl holding a bottle of rum. He glanced around and saw no Jimmy at all. 

Miriam looked up and grinned. "Thomas, love, you found the place okay then?"

"Yes," he said and walked closer to her, it on the tip of his tongue to ask where Jimmy was but stopped himself thinking it'd be rude. 

"You lack color," she said eyeing him up and down. 

Thomas looked down at the black fitted jumper he put on and his gray slacks and thought they were quite spiffy. But looking back up he saw clear judgment but with extreme merriment. 

"Not very Christmassy, though Jimmy only agreed to wear something red to make me feel better. I'll have to do -- for this year." 

Thomas stared at her and panicked, was she expecting them to keep celebrating Christmas? Did she know he felt? Was it Jimmy? He was sure he never felt so jumpy in his life. He almost felt like he was going to propose and that wasn't it at all… It wasn't that, not yet, and yet it was a yet. He drank the rest of the wine in the glass. 

"Oh… are you alright, Thomas?"

"Fine," he lied and looked around. He saw where they had the bottles set up and walked over. Glancing at the open bottles and finding the red wine. He poured himself a generous second cup and looked around again. Miriam caught him and gave him a knowing smile. 

"I sent him outside for some wood, the fire in the other room's getting low… he'll back inside any…"

Sliding glass doors opened, a gust of cold wind flying in, followed by a grumbling Jimmy with too much wood in his arms. But he aborted his complaints when he saw Thomas and his movements. He stood where he and grinned on Thomas, his whole face seemed lit up, and suddenly Thomas knew he could do it. He could put it all on the line. 

"Jimmy, close the door, for cripes sake," Miriam yelled.

"I'll get it," Thomas bolted forward and closed it. Jimmy caught his eye and motioned, with his body, for him to follow Jimmy into the living room. People cleared a path for them, and Jimmy sat the wood down and then threw a log into the fire. Before he turned around and wowed Thomas with another grin.

"You're here… did you meet David?" 

"At the door," Thomas said.

"He wasn't…"

"He seemed happy to meet me," Thomas said.

"You say that like it's odd."

Thomas shrugged and looked around at the crowd, a bit of his dislike of crowds crowding in on him. 

"You much rather be in your workshop, wouldn't you?" Jimmy laughed. 

"Yeah…"

"Well, we have a good bit before Mum is going make me play carols." 

"She doesn't…."

"Every year, since I started piano lessons -- do tell me they don't make Sybbie do anything similar?"

Thomas laughed. "She'll show off on her own."

Jimmy grinned. "Sounds like her."

Thomas eyed him. "Sounds like you too."

"Are you comparing me to a seven-year-old?"

"A seven-year-old show off," Thomas smirked. 

"Yeah… I am a show off…." He cocked his head and started walking. Thomas followed him through the crowd and down a hallway, and they walked into a smaller room, it also had fireplace and was decorated nicely but was blissfully empty. 

"Party will end up down here, once everyone is here, people need to spread out. But we've got a bit…" he looked around the room. "So, this is where I grew up, huh?"

"You're asking me?"

"No, I just… you've never seen the house. It feels weird."

"That I haven't…"

"Been here yet, yeah." Jimmy scratched the back of his neck. 

Thomas noticed then he was wearing a red jumper that seemed a bit too big for him. His hands half covered by the hem of the sleeves. "Your mum said wearing something red was your look Christmas like compromise?"

"Uh…" he looked down at it and shrugged. "She didn't get on you for wearing black did she?"

"A bit, but I didn't mind -- oddly."

Jimmy sighed, and he looked Thomas up and down. "You look…" he started, and his cheeks reddened. 

"I look…" Thomas prompted stepping closer to him, his cheeks heating up. 

"Think I never complimented a man before," Jimmy chuckled nervously. 

"Is that what you're trying to do?"

"Thomas…" he breathed, and his hand shot out and landing on Thomas' waist. 

Thomas grabbed the loose fabric of Jimmy's shirt in his fingers and looked down at him. They were so close, but it felt too far away. His hands rose up and touched Jimmy's chest, and he felt his heart under his palm and felt relieved that it was pounding as hard as his own. They were almost in perfect sync, and he thought they could be… They could be perfect sync. 

 

Jimmy made a sound, a soft gasp and Thomas' eyes fell onto his mouth. On his lips, plush and full, and he always thought they were perfectly sculpted. Jimmy yanked Thomas closer, and he felt himself just bend to his will. Their eyes met for a split second before both of them looked at the other's mouths. 

_Finally._

Thomas' mouth was on Jimmy's taking his upper lip between his own for a moment before pressing in again. He grabbed at Jimmy's shoulder's pulling him closer and felt a hand on his lower back, and one land on his chest -- right over his heart and he knew Jimmy heard it then, both their heartbeats. Jimmy moaned and his mouth parted. Thomas sighed as he let his tongue slide inside of him and the hand on his waist fell lower to his arse. He pulled at Jimmy, hands flying to face and behind his neck and into his hair. 

They swayed and pressed their body's closer, chest to chest and Thomas' thigh ended up between Jimmy's legs, and he was licking into Thomas' mouth. He gripped onto him, everywhere and was thinking he needed to feel skin against his palms. He needed to get closer, and he felt Jimmy's hand tugging at the bottom of his shirt. 

"OH." The shout wasn't one person, it wasn't all the same sound, but it all came together to tell him and Jimmy that they were being watched. They sprung apart, their eyes meeting the both of them feel exasperated and embarrassed. 

"Come on," Jimmy grabbed his hand and yanked out of the room. So quickly, he never saw the faces of the people who walked in on them, and he was grateful for it. They made a quick trip toward the front door and Jimmy was heading for the staircase, but Thomas stopped by the coatrack. 

"What?" Jimmy sputtered at him.

"I…" he found his coat quickly and pulled out the box. "Need this."

Jimmy looked at it, and his face softened, he stepped down a bit, already up the staircase a few steps. "That's my not a Christmas present."

"Yeah…" Thomas nodded. 

He grinned but then he tightened his hold on the hand he was still holding. "Up here," he ordered and pulled Thomas up the stairs. They walked down a hallway, to the very end and Jimmy pushed open a door, pulled Thomas through it and against a wall. He put his hands either side of Thomas' face and leaned up and kissed him firmly. 

It was all it took, and his own hands were back on Jimmy. They kissed, frenzied and hands finding their way under their shirts, pulling each other closer and it got to the point it was entirely too overwhelming. Thomas felt Jimmy slowing down, and he met the slower pace. Breathing through his nose, one of his hands stroking the hair at the nape of Jimmy's neck and he felt Jimmy's hand against his heart again, and he was positive they were in perfect sync. 

"Like your rhythm," Jimmy whispered against his lips.

"Never been told that before?"

"Never said it before."

"I like that," Thomas admitted, and he felt a rush possession. They stopped kissing, foreheads resting against each other and they were staring. Thomas sighed and thought maybe he was feeling content? 

"Can I see it?" Jimmy asked after a beat.

"What?" Thomas asked.

"My present."

"Oh." He must have dropped it and wondered how he could've done such a thing, but the was staring at Jimmy and realizing he didn't want to let go of him to look for the box. "I dropped it."

"Oh," Jimmy said, but he didn't move. 

"Um…" Thomas laughed and bent down and kissed Jimmy, softly and chastely, one more kiss before… He pulled himself away. He heard Jimmy laugh, but then he walked further into the room and turned on a light. Thomas blinked at the suddenness of it and looked at his feet. The box hadn't fallen far, so he picked it up and followed Jimmy further into the room. Jimmy turned around, and Thomas offered him the box. 

Jimmy took it and looked at it. He turned it over. "No bow?"

Thomas gave him a look, but his heart was pounding. He was terrified and excited. He felt impatient, and he sighed. "Please, open it, I can't wait longer."

"Yeah?" Jimmy grinned at him, but he paused. Turning the box open in his hands and then finally he cracked it open. Thomas saw the gold glint off the light in the room, and his eyes went to Jimmy's face. His expression was blank for a moment, then he blinked a few times and then he looked at Thomas like he needed confirmation of what he was seeing. 

"You deserved your own," Thomas said. 

"Thomas…" Jimmy stared at the pocket watch. "You made this…"

"Yeah."

"In the workshop, with all those tools that I never remember the names of and with your hands… It has…"

"I hope I got it right, the succession…"

"You did, you did, it's my song…" Jimmy's eyes widened, and he stared right Thomas, almost through him, and he looked in shock. "Why?"


	12. Chapter 12

December 9th 

This was what gobsmacked meant, Jimmy thought, as he stared at the watch. His hands were shaking, and he gripped the box tighter because he couldn’t drop it. It was precious and priceless — no, it was now the most expensive thing he owned. It was worth more than his piano and Thomas simply handed it over to him. No, Thomas spent hours bent over a workbench and painstaking made this for him. Jimmy licked his lips, mouth, and throat dry. He felt like he could feel his heartbeat in his bones. He stared at the notes, the same notes he had tattooed on his right forearm. It was the first song he wrote, the refrain of the chorus — it wasn’t his best song but it was the first, and it was a familiar hum to him because it calmed him and helped him focus. 

And the notes were on the clock face and Thomas seamlessly married them to the design of spirals. The gold kept glinting from ray light from the lamp behind him. He stared at it and the thick gold chain, and he thought he wasn’t the pocket watch type, it wasn’t his style but this -- this was the best present of his life, and he couldn’t for the life of him figure out how to say thank you because he didn’t understand. 

“Why?” he whispered and dared to look directly at Thomas again. And he didn’t recognize the look on his face. There were emotions in Thomas’ gray eyes that Jimmy never seen before — mixed up with ones he knew well. Thomas was nervous, and there was a vulnerability and that increasing tension that they both shared — the what if that was in their hearts. But things were behind his eyes Jimmy never met yet, and he wanted too, he knew it, but his heart was pounding. He was hot and uncomfortable, but he waited to Thomas answer with his breath trapped in his throat. 

“You,” Thomas said as if that held all the answers, but Jimmy didn’t understand. “You were there when I had the daft idea… about the tree rings and spirals.”

Jimmy remembered it, of course, they were at Alfred’s of all places. A tree had been cut down near his small backyard. Thomas kept going over to it and tracing the tree rings with his fingers. Jimmy remembered handing him a beer and sitting down on the tree stump and Thomas’ annoyed look when he covered up the patterns he been so engrossed in. Jimmy just wanted all of his attention on him…. “I remember.”

“You listened… and you didn’t laugh.”

“It wasn’t daft,” Jimmy said. 

“And you kept saying that too… let me babble on and on for months, longer, it’s been almost more than a year I’ve been talking about nothing but this pocket watch — and I still want too, I’m still so in love with it and scared it won’t sell…”

“It’ll sell,” Jimmy interrupted, and he picked up the watch, pulling it from the back and showed it to Thomas — like he didn’t know what it looked like. “It’s beautiful, and it’s… You.”

Thomas gasped at that and Jimmy realized what his words meant, the watch was beautiful, and so was Thomas. He wouldn’t take it back but that he could say it to him was something new and frightening. The moment felt monumental. He felt his heart racing, Thomas was… 

“You were there the whole way, Jimmy. All the plans, stages, you kept me sane and focused — it would never have happened without you.”

“What, no? You did this…”

“With you,” Thomas whispered. “You kept me grounded whenever I started to feel overwhelmed and like it was an impossible task, Jimmy.”

“Nothing’s impossible for you,” Jimmy told him, and he never said it because it was just a truth. He never seen Thomas fail at anything. 

“That’s not true…” he was arguing.

Jimmy shook his head. 

“Jimmy,” Thomas said, voice low and his palm fell on his cheek. “I… need you.”

“You…”

Thomas kissed him and he felt it again. His heartbeat in his bones and his whole body seemed to throb. It was powerful, and he gripped the watch’s chain his hand, afraid he might drop it as he fell into the kiss. He was barely kissing back, he was letting Thomas show him something with touch, and he felt like he might implode from it. His bones shattering first and then everything else. He felt breathless as they fell apart. 

“I… never should have thought it was a simple thank you… I… Been pretending that my feelings for you aren’t as deep as they are for a long time. It was a habit but lately, Jimmy, I want us…”

He kissed Thomas. He couldn’t hear it. He might fall apart. He kissed him, one hand behind his neck, the other refusing to let go of the watch. He felt it swinging between them, it hit his thigh, and it was solid and real. And it represented Thomas. It was beautiful. It was bold. It was a promise of forever…

Forever. 

He kissed Thomas and felt like he was both hiding from answering Thomas’ question and promising him the answer was yes. It was both. Fear and happiness. It was too much, and he broke the kiss and staggered back a bit and looked to find where the box for the watch had gotten to. He didn’t know how to accept this gift with grace, and he didn’t know how to tell Thomas it was too much.

And forever felt too big and he felt the tattoo itch. The one that had Thomas’ tree-ringed swirls, that forever said it was three-fifteen the exact time they met and has his name emblazoned on the hour hand. It was his own gift of forever, but he wasn’t ready for it…

Why had he done it?

He wasn’t ready for this?

He carefully placed the pocket watch bad into the box and closed it. Thomas was close, too close. He could smell oil and the wintery cologne he wore, and he felt his height, and Jimmy closed his eyes because he loved looking up into Thomas’ eyes and he knew he slotted perfectly against him when the kissed...

Just how he always hoped. 

Wanting something and fearing something were both crushing waves. 

“Jimmy?” 

Jimmy squeezed his eyes shut further because he heard it, of course, he heard it, he knew him too well. He was afraid, he made Thomas afraid because he wasn’t reacting right to any of this at all. He felt trapped but when he opened his eyes and saw vulnerability and uncertainty etched Thomas' face he found himself turning to box down on the old bureau that still sat in this is his old bedroom… 

He turned back to Thomas. To the man who was too much and grabbed his shirt and kissed him again. It was new, and it was perfect, and it made him throb almost entirely, but maybe, just maybe, it would help calm him too. If he got some of it out of his system. Siphon off the fear, the want, the promises of them being something that was…

Bigger than them. 

He pushed Thomas, bodily moving him toward the bed in the room and he watched Thomas fall back onto it. Gracefully, only like he could and would. Jimmy smiled and climbed over him and pressed his mouth to Thomas’ neck and licked up the pale skin given in to one of his fantasies. 

“Jimmy?”

He rose up at the question and got lost for a moment Thomas’ questioning gaze. It was too much, he knew something was wrong, and Jimmy felt a lump form in his throat from it, but he couldn’t face it — so he murmured a sound, no a word, or thought, just a sound and kissed him. Thomas was still for all of a moment, and then his hands were on his face and pulled Jimmy even closer to him. Jimmy sighed their mouths and tongues, on skin and tasting, hands everywhere. He felt lighter, the longer they made out, the more Thomas gripped him with his hands and moved underneath him. He was settling, things were calming, but then Thomas started to pull at his jumper. 

Jimmy froze and moved away, pushing at Thomas’ hands, having to stop him from removing the item. Everything was slamming back at him, and it was too much again. He swallowed and moved off the bed. His heart in his throat because he didn’t know what to do or say.

All he knew as Thomas couldn’t see the tattoo. 

“What?” that weight, that worry — that knowing was back in Thomas eyes and Jimmy turned away from it and tried to catch his breathe. 

“Jimmy?”

He looked at the carpet, an ugly blue he picked when was thirteen and they’d bought the house. The house for his new family. The house where he grew up. He looked at the pale blue walls and saw the twin bed hidden behind Thomas frame — he never had a boy in his room before, and the thought felt absurd in both timing and fact. 

Christmas music was faint in the background, but if he focused on it, he could hear it. And the people, the murmur of a crowd talking that could sound like static when you were too far away from it to catches snatches of conversation. The party, his mum and everything was his excuse and his lie to get out of this — but he knew Thomas would see through it. He wondered though if Thomas would go along with it? 

“We should get back…” Jimmy said and forced himself to look at Thomas.

“Uh…” Thomas shook his head but he started buttoning up his shirt, and Jimmy eyes fell the bared skin and realized his mouth been down that strip of skin. Want charged through him, but he pushed it off and wondered what he been thinking? He looked at the watch, the box, and found himself going over to it and opening it again and wondered if he could even broach the idea of saying thank you.

“You don’t need to say it…” Thomas’s voice was in his ear, but it lacked his usual confidence.

“I do,” Jimmy thought. 

“What is it?” Thomas asked, and his hands were on Jimmy’s waist. “Tell me?”

“I can’t…” Jimmy sighed. 

“Do you not…”

“No,” he panicked and twisted around, and they were standing so close. “I want. I want…” he couldn’t think he wasn’t wanted. 

“Then…”

“I….” Jimmy closed his eyes. Thomas just asked him forever, no words needed and he was freaking out, and a part of him didn’t understand it because he tattooed his yes on his arm before Thomas even spoke about them maybe being a them… 

“Jimmy…” Thomas' voice was wrecked. 

“I want ya…” Jimmy said and made sure to look into his eyes. “I just…”

“What?”

“It’s perfect, the watch, I don’t… deserve…”

Thomas was shaking his head, and he breathed out a no. 

“I don’t…”

“I need ya,” Thomas admitted.

It was too much, Jimmy thought. Need. It coursed through him, and the tattoo felt heavy on his arm. “Time,” he whispered. “Please?”

Thomas sighed, and his eyes shut down for a brief moment, which terrified Jimmy used to being read Thomas through the thoughts shown in his irises but then he was back… sad, vulnerable but with a stubborn hope. Relief flooding Jimmy as Thomas’ lips brushed against his cheek. “Time.”


	13. Chapter 13

December 9th ticks into 10th 

Thomas was confused and aroused. He'd been pinned down to a bed by Jimmy Kent. Straddled and kissed. He could taste him, even now, as they walked down the hallway, their hands entwined. Jimmy was gripping him like he was afraid Thomas might let go, which was wonderful but it seemed in direct opposition to Jimmy’s raw and vulnerable request for time. Thomas nearly stumbled on the stairs, the memory of moments ago so vivid in his mind and worry churned in his gut. 

He spent a lot of time looking into Jimmy’s eyes, he drowned in them more than once, nervously clearing his throat and turning away whenever he was caught and telling himself that Jimmy wasn’t the feeling the same — until the lie got to be too much. And maybe that was it, maybe the look of fear and insecurity he'd never seen before in the depths of all that blue was because they weren’t lying and the truth they were finally facing was huge.

And it was huge. His heart pounded, and fear rose up in his chest. Thomas may have handed Jimmy a pocket watch, but the truth was the action meant he was selling his soul to Jimmy. He was asking for something bigger than a kiss or sex, he was asking for life. A life with Jimmy. He was asking Jimmy if he loved him back — bu neither of them have whispered a love you. 

They were at a beginning, but Thomas was asking for an ending. He knew it was a risk when he did it — he doubted it, he feared it, he changed his mind a million times before he handed over the box. His heart won out, his need to show Jimmy he was thankful for Jimmy believing in him. That Jimmy supporting him meant more to him than he could properly convey with words. Words felt empty, and he always worried he never sounded sincere enough when he was genuine. His clipped tones and natural sarcasm stopping people from hearing the reality of emotions overwhelming him.

He protected himself. Thomas knew that about himself, except when he didn’t, and right now he was a raw nerve. A raw nerve that felt all the places on his skin where Jimmy’s palms burned against his skin. He was a raw nerve that saw Jimmy looking at him like he was stripped bare and asking for time. But he was also the man, whose hand was hurting because Jimmy was holding too tight. 

It was confusing. It was hard, and suddenly they were in the midst of a Christmas party. He blinked at the crowd, he felt Jimmy tug, his grip deathly tight… it wasn’t abating. He pulled Thomas into the crowd and up to where a bar was set up. When he let go of Thomas’ hand to grab the red wine, Thomas was almost afraid he might drift away and into the crowd. A part of him always wanted to, to catch his breath from Jimmy’s mix signals. 

He was handed a goblet of wine and watched Jimmy pour himself whiskey with coke. Then they were staring right at each other and Jimmy looked terrified until he smiled and chased all the darkness away. Thomas stared and was struck by lightning. Jimmy was beautiful and bright and his. He was his. Thomas was sure of it, it just wasn’t happening the way he'd hoped. He hoped by the end of this night they’d have talked, they’d defined themselves…

They'd be together where they belonged. 

~~~

He was warm from wine, the crowd, and Jimmy. Who stayed plastered to his side throughout the night. He found himself in conversations with strangers, but it was all light and airy. It was Christmas in the Kent-Stuart house, and everything was laughter and music. 

And since Jimmy was the star of the show, Thomas forgave the party from taking him away from his side. He was in a prime position, back to a wall with a direct line of sight to Jimmy. Who was on he bench, playing Christmas carols without music and singing along like the star he was… 

Bright, brilliant and dead sexy. 

Thomas swallowed and licked his lips. The carols became white noise to him, his focus the tone of Jimmy’s voice — the only voice he seemed capable of hearing. He wasn’t singing along, he couldn’t, not when his eyes were on Jimmy’s hands. They were strong, and they moved over the piano keys with power and precision. Jimmy playing the piano always awed Thomas, it made him feel like he was being blessed…

Even when the song was Rudolph The Red Nose Reindeer. Ivy appeared in front of him, a red nose on her nose, thrusting one into his chest. The spell broke, and he heard the crowd suddenly, laughter and caught a whiff of peppermint he was sure from Ivy. He stared at the nose in his hands and raised an eyebrow at her that said there was no way that was happening…

Ivy just grinned and moved to the piano, she stood behind Jimmy and reached around and applied the nose to him. He scowled as she did it, but laughed a bit as he continued singing the song, his fingers not missing a beat. He glanced over at Thomas and gave the tiniest of shrugs that spoke of both the affection and irritation he felt for his family. Thomas laughed and shook his head and thought it was all rather cheesy but he was having a good time. 

“Okay, last song…” Jimmy yelled and started playing the Twelve Days of Christmas as Ivy sat down on the piano bench with him. Thomas stayed where he was and just watched, watched Jimmy and fell back into that bubble where only Jimmy and his voice lived. 

~~~ 

Their outside. Thomas pulled them there. He felt dizzy and warm and crowded in by the people and the noise. He’s wearing a ribbon around his neck from the grab bag gift he opened. It was candied ginger, and Ivy’d shown up and stolen it — not that he minded. But she put the ribbon from the wrapping around his neck and Jimmy was winding it around his fingers. Green ribbon around the hands that'd been on the piano. That’d been on Thomas skin, and he smiled and wondered why they weren’t on his skin right now. 

He grabbed Jimmy’s hand in his and tugged him, closer, though they were plenty close already. The sing-a-long the furtherest they’d been since Thomas gotten to the party. He stared down into Jimmy’s eyes and frowned when he still got sight of something he couldn’t read. He couldn’t determine what it was that Jimmy was pushing him away from him — even if it was only slightly. 

“Thomas…” Jimmy’s shaking his head.

“I know,” Thomas said and he was trying, trying to understand but he didn’t at all. His heartbeat was rising with fear and worry. He’d put so much on the line tonight with the pocket watch, and it might kill him if the answer to the unspoken wish was no. “I just…”

Jimmy kissed him. He sighed, relief flooded him, something loosened in his chest and he pulled Jimmy against him, flush as he could get the two of them when they were clothes. Their body heat mingled with the cold of the outside and he felt them both shiver. Jimmy deepened the kiss, and he moaned, which caused Thomas to gasp and roll his tongue inside his mouth, tasting more and more of Jimmy. 

He felt like he was learning him and that he knew him inside out all at once. He felt so familiar and right in his arms — it was like they hadn’t wasted a bit of time. 

_Time._

Jimmy pulled away, and his expression was both open and guarded. He sighed and touched Thomas’ face. “Yeah, so it’s not going to be easy.”

Thomas chuckled and went for a kiss. Jimmy let him, he sighed into it but pulled away again and shook his head at Thomas. “I don’t have to make it easy…” 

“No, you don’t but…”

“All you need, Jimmy,” Thomas whispered. 

~~~

Jimmy walked him to his car and kissed him again, again and maybe another time. Other guests that were leaving, laughing and talking around them. A few egging the two of them on to kiss more and longer. And he wasn’t one for an audience, but he wanted to hold onto Jimmy longer. He wanted to taste him more, and he wanted to watch the snow fall into his hair. Thomas didn’t want to let go because he was afraid of how long he might have to wait to hold him again…

It was in Jimmy’s eyes as he tried to lean away from him but just surged back in. It was in how he kept almost stepping backward. Thomas wrapped his arms around him, hard and he knew he wasn’t playing fair, and he knew he promised Jimmy time —

But did it have to start now? 

Jimmy sighed against his mouth and then his mouth was against Thomas’ neck. “You’re a bastard.”

Thomas laughed in agreement and pressed his mouth to Jimmy’s jaw. 

“I love it, you know,” Jimmy murmured, and his face was suddenly against Thomas’ neck. His skin heated and Thomas shivered and tightened the hold he on him even harder. He swallowed, his throat going dry because he been afraid maybe he didn’t like it, maybe it was too much, maybe he shouldn’t have given him the watch. 

“I love it,” Jimmy whispered again and kissed his neck. 

“You deserve it,” Thomas whispered. 

Jimmy leaned back, and their eyes met. “I don’t think I did all that much.”

“But you did,” Thomas said. 

“I…” Jimmy’s voice cracked, and he looked away, and Thomas watched the expression in his eyes go completely vulnerable before shutting down. “Time,” he whispered again. “I know it’s… unfair, we’ve just started but…”

“I’ll wait,” Thomas promised.

Jimmy laughed and his eyes twinkled a bit. “Yeah, you will won’t you?”

Thomas nodded.

“You’re mad,” Jimmy said and shook his head. 

“About you,” Thomas whispered and blushed because it was cheesy. 

Jimmy smiled though, and his own cheeks turned pinker. “You better go…”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Jimmy whispered, and he was kissing him again. It was deep, and it was intense, and Thomas felt his body respond, and it took all he had not to fall into the dark promises of it. They pulled away together, and Jimmy groaned in frustration and Thomas nearly told him he didn’t have to be, they didn’t have to be — they could get the car and go to his flat. Go to his bed. But Jimmy put his head on his shoulder and took a deep shuttering breath. Thomas wrapped his arms around him and sighed in frustration, but he wasn’t upset. 

“Time,” he promised.


	14. Chapter 14

December 15th 

Thomas closed his office door behind his assistant. He locked it. For good measure and then he paced the length of his office. He went to tear off his tie but it was gone, and he frowned. He probably pulled it off hours ago when he thought about it, and he looked around the office. When was the last time he was out of this bloody room — oh when he was in the lab, or upstairs in his father’s office dealing with him trying to lord it over Thomas. 

Thomas was not faltering under the pressure. He was putting all the fires as soon as they started. They just kept starting because it was the way of things. He'd seen other launched, successful ones have worse up and downs behind the scenes before hand than his…

But this one was his. This was the first one he was entirely responsible for. His design, his idea, his heart, and soul. Thomas unworked a few buttons of his shirt and wished he could take it off. He was hot. He walked over to the windows of his office and wished he could open them but they were far too high. He looked out the window, and it was snowing…

It hadn’t snowed since the party. He was back there in an instant. With Jimmy and his eyes closed. Memories of his lips and his hands and falling onto what was probably Jimmy’s childhood bed. His fingers twitched, and he looked at the time. It was late and again his texts about maybe being able to get away for lunch, dinner, a drink…were words. Just words and he wondered why he kept bothering to type them. 

He felt his pockets, and his cell was in his pants. He pulled it out and frowned at seeing no messages. Why was he bothering to type them? Jimmy seemed not to care anyway… 

Jimmy’s voice filled the air. He was calling him, and Thomas sighed in to relieve and disappointment. “I’m sorry,” he said getting to the point.

“How many more fires since lunch?”

“I don’t know, I lost count… I almost have things settled but waiting for phone calls, which if I don’t get, I have to go track the people down.” 

“And kill them.”

“It’s a possibility.

“Let me know, might know of a good place to bury bodies.”

Thomas laughed, and it felt wonderful, tension leeched out of him, and he leaned his head against the window. “I want to see you.”

“I know.”

“Feels like forever.”

“Yeah… take it no drink?”

“Unless you want it at like five in the morning… and then I’d just have to come right back here, probably. The old man is giving me a hard time.”

“He just wants you to beg him for help.”

“Never happening…” Thomas grinned. “I’m running around chasing my own head like some chicken, but I’ve got this under control.”

“Course you do… you’re freakishly put together.”

“Am I?”

“It’s sexy.”

“That’s sexy?”

“On you it is….” Jimmy sighed. 

“You’ve been way too good about this…” Thomas hedged the fear spiking up again that Jimmy maybe didn’t want to see him.

“Thomas, it’s Spiral Watch Design by Thomas Barrow — was there at the birth remember?”

“You know I do,” Thomas said and thought about the pocket watch he’d given Jimmy. A part of him fearing it been too much, that it said way too much because Jimmy almost seemed afraid of it but awed as well. 

“I know… Looking at it now.”

“Are you?”

“Got it dangled in front of me. Can’t figure out where to keep it. Not going to start wearing waist coasts and wearing it everywhere…”

“You should…” Thomas groaned. 

“Oh, like that idea, huh?”

“Yes.”

“Keep it in mind… but yeah keep trying to figure out where to put it.”

“Your piano?”

Jimmy laughed. “And let little kids grubby hands get near it, never.”

Thomas laughed. “You let them play the piano.”

“I get paid for that… and I make them use wet wipes if needed. I’ll find the right spot.”

“I want to see you,” Thomas whined. 

“I know.”

Thomas held his breath.

“Don’t you have to get back?” Jimmy asked.

“Not until someone yells at me.”

“It’s closer, almost over…”

“Vacations start soon… for the people who already haven’t anyway. What was I thinking making it the day after Christmas?”

“You’re asking me?” 

“Not really.”

“It’s going to be fine. You know that. It’ll be better than fine. Amazing. People are going to look at it and think it’s beautiful and the fact it tells perfect time will just be a bonus.” 

“You say it, and I believe it.”

“You’re not doubting.”

“Not really, yes… No,” Thomas laughed. “When all I’m doing is putting out fires it’s hard… and…. I miss you. The second a get a chance to breathe all I do is miss you.” 

“Thomas…” Jimmy's voice was soft, and Thomas’ stomach lurched. In fear or anticipation, he wasn’t sure. There was something unsure and needy in the tone, and that wasn’t Jimmy. The mix signals were starting again, and he felt a bit spun and too vulnerable. 

Had he taken too big of a risk given him the watch? 

“I do too…” Jimmy said his voice stronger than it been a moment before and Thomas clung to that. “It’s just…”

“What?”

“I just…”

“Jimmy?”

“I don’t know… it’s not important.”

“Yes, it is,” Thomas argued. 

“How would you know,” Jimmy laughed, but he sounded defensive. 

“Jimmy if I…” someone started knocking on his door and he heard a muffled Mr. Barrow. “Damn it.”

“They yelling at you?”

“Yeah, pounding on the door.”

“Not just barging in?”

“They would’ve if I hadn’t locked the bloody door.”

Jimmy laughed. “Thomas go… be freakishly put together.” 

“That’s really a turn on?”

“You’ve no idea.”

Thomas sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re busy, I get it… you’re important.”

“So, are you,” Thomas said and winced at how quickly. 

“MR. BARROW.”

“I heard that…” Jimmy laughed.

“I’ll call you… when I can.”

“Okay.”

Thomas sighed. 

“I’ll see you soon enough,” Jimmy said and hung up.

Thomas stared at his phone and shook his head. “Not soon enough.” 

~~~

Jimmy dropped his cell phone and stared at the pocket watch. It was swaying in front of his face. Beautiful and perfect. All swirls meaning infinity and the notes of the first song he wrote he was proud of — the first piece of his soul he put into sound. It was Thomas’ first design, the pocket watch was Thomas’ sound. And he merged them together. The two of them. Jimmy swallowed and wondered if Thomas even knew…

If he consciously knew how much of his heart he’d simply handed Jimmy. Because it was all of it, it was more than it, it was his soul, and Jimmy felt the weight of the watch, and he looked he looked at his left forearm. He’d thought the resemblance to Thomas’ design been good, well enough he knew what he did — but it was uncanny. It was perfect line for line. It was a different pattern of swirls, but all the watches were meant to be different…

He looked at the snow outside the window. All unique. Jimmy looked at the notes on his pocket watch and the matching notes on his forearm. He made the watch swing a bit more on its chain, watched it go back and forth and twist around here and there. He wondered if he could hypnotize himself with it… 

Maybe he could make himself feel less afraid. 

It was pounding inside of him. 

And the craziest part was he felt he most safe with Thomas’ voice in his ear. And he wasn’t hearing him enough. He hadn’t seen him since the party. He should be pissed off. He should be irritated. They started something, and they should finish it… 

And he'd be a selfish prat to be irritated and frustrated with Thomas right now. And he was a selfish prat, he wanted attention all the time, he wanted Thomas’ attention. He didn’t share with the bloody watch — but he couldn’t bring himself to voice it, or even fully feel it… 

The timing was good because the launch was taking all of Thomas’ attention and it meant Jimmy had time to breathe. Only he wasn’t breathing. He wasn’t figuring out anything at all. The watch slowed to a near stop, and he focused on the face of it and realized it was coming up on 3:15 in the morning…

He laughed and looked at the watch on his arm. His eyes falling on the two hands, noting the time, though it was 3:15 in the afternoon. The exact time they met because of course Thomas was on time that day. Freakishly put together — Sybbie Branson was never one second late for her lessons, her gorgeous godfather in tow. 

He'd never been given a present like the watch before. Never presented with something personal and rare and perfect. He felt like he was holding a piece of Thomas. He was petrified. They were best mates. They wanted each other but….

He had never been in a relationship that lasted past six months — and he wasn’t sure he could count whatever it was he had with Anstruther. So that meant weeks, he never lasted with anyone more than weeks. 

If he… 

No, he would…

If…

He stared at the watch on his forearm and swore that Thomas’ name seemed brighter. It was gold ink, bright against the black of the hour hand, the edge of the minute hand right under it, underlining it. It felt larger, it felt brighter, it seemed more and more prominent every time Jimmy looked at it. And his heartbeat got louder in his ears and felt like a loud ticking clock. 

He couldn’t hide it forever. 

What had he been thinking?

Why?

He looked back up at the pocket watch and started it swinging again. Was the pocket watch the same as the tattoo? Was it his gift back to Thomas? His soul and his heart in ink under his skin…

“You were drunk off your head…how did you even?” He stared at the lines of the tattoo, the precision, the beauty and it felt impossible. How did a drunk idiot like himself stumble into a tattoo parlor and stumble out with his heart’s biggest secret literally on his skin rendered to perfection?

He frowned and quickly put the watch back into its box. Then he pulled his sleeve down over the tattoo. He needed to sleep, he thought, it wasn’t doing him any good sitting and staring at watches. But instead, he found himself grabbing his guitar. After a few chords he started to feel lighter, he put it all into the music, lifted it out of his head, moved out of his body… 

At least for a little while.


	15. Chapter 15

December 16th

Thomas looked at his watch for the millionth time in the last five minutes and frowned at times ability to become sluggish almost to the point of feeling like it was stopped. He felt trapped as he tried to get a bunch of small things done so he wouldn’t have to worry about them when he was with Sybbie. She was going to get his full attention. 

He hoped. 

His mind was split between two things. The launch of his pocket watch and Jimmy Kent. He never knew what he would be thinking at any given moment, and it was slowing down his progress, and his long list of things to get done felt unending. He was in his office on a Saturday, instead of picking up his goddaughter her father was delivering her to the office. 

He might have to give her one of her presents and take a few phone calls which — No. No. He wasn’t doing that at all, he was not his father. At all. He sighed and ran his hands through his hair and stopped pacing. He caught his reflection in the mirror and sighed. He was a mess. Collar unbuttoned, hair all askew, no suit jacket, shirt untucked… If Jimmy saw him now he would not fit the _freakishly put together_ appearance he been going on about. He wondered if Jimmy would find this look appealing or not. 

He looked at his watch again and only a minute passed. He should pick up the phone on his desk and make his next phone call, ruin someone else’s Saturday — that was the part that gave him a little bit of pleasure. Knowing he wasn’t alone in being chained to his desk. But instead, he fished out his cell and called Jimmy. Finally caving in to the urge that rose up every time the man pushed his way to the forefront of Thomas’ mind…

When it should be on business. 

But it rather thinking of wide smiles, the sound of laughter and the memory of lips against his throat. He cleared his throat and hoped Jimmy would pick up — and hated knowing there was a possibility his call would be ignored. As the phone rang the fear grew stronger, and he was almost sure it would be put to voice mail when Jimmy answered.

“Shouldn’t you be with Sybbie?”

Thomas grinned. “Soon… I should be working.”

“Is something only you would say.”

“You sure you can’t meet us?” Thomas asked again. 

“Really can’t…” Jimmy said, and Thomas was positive he was lying. “But tell the Little Bug I said hi.”

“She rather see you,” Thomas said, and it was the truth, there were times Thomas thought she liked Jimmy more than him. 

“Don’t see why… just bug her about practicing.”

“No, you’d spoil her rotten.”

“One time, I bought her bear…”

“And that decadent chocolate sundae, Branson didn’t forgive me for months for that sugar rush…”

Laughter was in Thomas’ ear, and he slid a bit down his chair as he enjoyed it, his skin prickling and he felt a rush of relaxation that felt amazing. “I…” he cleared his throat, catching the words it wasn’t time to say. “Miss you.”

“Me too.”

“Come…”

“No.”

Irritation spiked and his muscle tensed up again. He flailed around his mind for a way to call Jimmy out that wouldn’t make him sound angry and stupid. Or desperate to understand what the hell was going on. When the intercom on his desk beeped, and his assistant told him Sybbie had arrived. 

“She’s here.”

“Relax, okay… don’t stress about whatever you haven’t gotten done. Just you know, have fun.”

“Yeah, I will…. Well, will try.”

“Sybbie will keep you in check,” Jimmy chuckled. 

“Yeah, bye.”

“See ya…” Jimmy breathed.

 _Will I?_ Thomas wondered, but he stopped himself from saying it and ended the call. He stood up and started tucking in his shirt, and the intercom trilled again with the same message since he never responded. He looked around for his tie but couldn’t find and decided it wasn’t worth it. He pulled on his suit jacket and hoped his hair wasn’t too horribly messed up. 

Then he was out the door of his office, and Sybbie was against his leg hugging him and looked up. She had on a headband with antlers with sparkling lights and a dress that made her look like an adorable little elf, and he thought someday she would kill him with the cute. But this wasn’t the day… It was a near thing. He usually ruffled her hair, but he didn’t want mess with the headband, so he reached down and picked her up. Realizing as he did, he wasn’t going to able to do it for much longer. She was nearly seven now and getting bigger and bigger. He really wanted her to stop growing already. 

“You look weird,” she said and put her hand in his hair. 

“Been busy…” he muttered.

“With my presents?” she gave him a cheeky smile that reminded him viscerally of Sybil, which made him grin all the wider. 

“Sybbie…” Branson admonished. 

Thomas looked over her head at him. “Ten o’clock my flat?”

“It’ll be Mary or Edith, I’m leaving straight away to meet Sarah at her parents.” 

Thomas frowned at that before he could stop himself. He hated Sarah Bunting. 

“So, uh…” Branson motioned toward his daughter.

This was their goodbye until Christmas Day when Branson made his way to Sybbie’s grandparent's place after meeting the parents. Thomas couldn’t help but hope that went terribly. He turned around and walked into his office and went to the Christmas Tree was in the corner. It was surrounded with presents, all for Sybbie — it was too much, he thought looking at it a bit chagrined. He tried not to spoil her, but it never worked out.

“Are we going for sundaes?” Sybbie asked, and he turned around. 

“Your father gone?”

She looked out the door and shook her head. “Daddy, you can go, I’m a big girl.” 

Thomas pursed his lips so he wouldn’t laugh. 

Branson appeared though and scooped her up another hug, and Thomas couldn’t blame him for not wanting to leave her behind. “Daddy, I need to breathe…” He let her down and nodded at Thomas. 

“Merry Christmas.”

“Happy Holidays,” Branson said and turned to leave. 

Sybbie watched him go and then sighed. “He’s so dramatic.”

Thomas laughed outright, and she turned to him eyes sparkling and giggling that he agreed with her. Then she saw the presents and her eyes went wide and she looked at him. “All of that for me?”

He nodded.

“Oooooh,” she ran forward and started looking and poking at the presents. She picked up a few and shook them and then walked around a few of the bigger boxes. 

“You can unwrap them,” Thomas pointed out after a moment.

“Shh… I’m considering,” she said. 

He laughed and sat on the edge of his desk to watch the show. 

~~~

“Where’s Jimmy?”

Thomas managed not to spit the ice cream in his mouth, but it was a near thing. They'd been talking about Frozen, or rather Sybbie been talking about Frozen and he been nodding and listening. It was a rather abrupt change of subject, and it was a subject he both loved and hated. 

“I think he’s with his sister,” Thomas lied. 

“Ivy?”

“Yes.”

“She’s pretty,” Sybbie said. “I thought maybe he'd be here.”

“Why’s that?”

“Don’t know, but he makes you happy.”

Thomas felt his cheeks flamed and wondered if he was really that transparent a kid knew how he felt about Jimmy. 

“You make him happy too…” she said. “I want him to teach me to play Let It Go, so I can sing it to the music.” 

“You’ll have to ask him your next lesson.”

“But that’s forever away,” she exclaimed. “Not until the end of January that’s FOREVER. Can’t I see him sooner? You can ask him to come and play with us, you’re like besties, he can’t say no.” 

Thomas stopped him from sighing because Jimmy been saying no all week but he thought maybe if his asking was a direct wish from Sybbie herself Jimmy might soften? It might be a good secret weapon, he knew Jimmy adored Sybbie, it was all over his face after their lessons and how he readily agreed to be part of their outings. 

“Well?” Sybbie prompted.

“He shall receive your requests, Princess,” Thomas said. 

“YAY…. Can we go to the ice skating rink now?” 

Thomas nodded and waved over the waitress. 

~~~

They were watching Frozen when the doorbell rang. Sybbie perked up and ran right to the door. Thomas stayed where he was because it was amazing not move after so many long days. And after chasing after Sybbie on an ice rink, as she skated little circles around him. When she opened the door however it wasn’t either of her Aunts. It was Daisy.

“Who are you?” Sybbie asked with narrow eyes. 

“I’m Daisy, who are you?” Daisy said not missing a beat.

“I’m Sybbie Branson. Uncle Thomas doesn’t like girls.” 

Daisy laughed, and Thomas felt his eyes widened. How did she know that? 

“That’s okay, I don’t like him like that,” Daisy said.

“Good. He likes Jimmy. So, do I…” Sybbie gave Daisy a look. “Who is the present for?”

“Your Uncle Thomas. Can I come in?”

“Okay,” Sybbie said and then she ran back to the couch and found the remote to rewind the movie to where she’d left it off. 

Thomas was staring at her, his heart-pounding because how did she know those things, he never told her he what he was, who he loved, he just stared at the little girl. She was amazing, he thought and decided it was Sybil’s genes, or maybe Sybil’s ghost whispering things to her she shouldn’t be able to pick up. Daisy cleared her throat. 

“Oh,” he jumped up. “Hi.”

“I wanted to give you this now.”

“Oh…” he looked at the gift bag she was holding. 

“I haven't wrapped yours yet…” he said. 

“Well, I’ll see you again.”

“Right.”

“It’s not really anything special… I just. You’ve been a good friend.”

“I try,” he said and pulled out was hidden in tissue in the bag. 

Daisy grinned. 

He pulled out a mug that had crude clock drawing on it and said I Heart Time. He laughed at it but found it kind of endearing and grinned at Daisy. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she kissed his cheek. “I’ll see you, soon. Bye Sybbie.”

“Bye, Daisy,” Sybbie said. 

Thomas put the mug down on his coffee table and sat back down next to Sybbie. He found himself staring at her, still trying to figure out how she knew things that he mostly just figured out himself. She turned to him suddenly with big eyes and a frown. 

“It’s not nice to stare, you know?”

“Sorry,” he muttered. 

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No, of course not,” he said.

“Then what is it?”

“Why did you…” Thomas shook his head why was he asking her this? “Say that to Daisy about Jimmy?”

“It’s true, silly,” she said. 

“How do you know?” he asked. 

“Cause you two smile, stare and giggle… Just like Aunt Mary and Uncle Matthew.” 

“Huh?” he said but frowned. Mary and Matthew were downright nauseating. But… They were in love, that was for sure, that kind of irritating love that you knew made them sickeningly happy. He felt a bit thrown by the thought that he and Jimmy could look like that? To a little girl, he told himself to keep it in check. But it wasn’t just any little girl? He fiddled with her antlers and started smiling a bit like a loon — maybe he and Jimmy would fine? 

“Hey, don’t mess with my antlers,” Sybbie ducked away. 

Thomas laughed and started tickling her.


	16. Chapter 16

December 16th ticking into the 17th

“You aren’t making sense, mate,” Alfred said. 

Jimmy scowled at him.

“You’ve been mooning about him for…” Alfred made a face. “Long time. And now you two are together and…”

“We aren’t together, not really, I mean… we haven’t talked about it,” Jimmy swallowed the shot that was in front of him. 

“Then talk to him,” Alfred said.

“What good that do?” Jimmy asked.

“Well, look at you? Think getting him would’ve made you look less miserable. You look worse than when you thought he was knocking boots and getting back together with that rich toff.” 

Jimmy shuddered at the thought of Thomas with Philip… it hadn’t happened, though and he’d been a fool to think it. If he just told Thomas not to go and not assumed. He looked at his arm. 

“That thing is bloody huge, how long did it take?”

“I don’t know…” he muttered. “Feel like it should be unfinished…” 

“Well, you did get bladdered early enough… took off when I was in the loo.” 

“Did I?”

“Yeah.”

Jimmy looked around the bar, his eyes finding the front door of the place. “It’s gotta be around here, right?”

“What?”

“That damn tattoo parlor… Should give them a piece of my mind about taking my money, shouldn’t let someone blind drunk get a bloody tattoo.” 

“You were paying weren’t you?”

“Fuck… I probably couldn’t have afforded it? What did I pay with?” 

“Credit.”

Jimmy groaned and waved at the bartender for another shot. 

“Don’t you think you shouldn’t repeat the performance?” Alfred asked.

“Not gonna too… just… this tattoo was a mistake, I wouldn’t be so…” Jimmy frowned and wondered if he was about to lie? Was he? The pocket watch would’ve freaked him out. Thomas held out his palms, and his heart was right on it. It was so bloody like him, all bold moves and emotional bravery coming out nowhere after years of keeping things to himself. It was one or the other with Thomas. Why couldn’t he be in between? 

“Jimmy?”

“It’s too much, too fast…”

“Yeah, years later you two finally admitting you wanna bone…”

“Fuck off, Alfred, you don’t get it.” 

“I think it’s you who’s missing a point, mate,” Alfred said. 

“What?”

“So, you have a bloody tattoo with his name on it… He gave you that watch, all personalized and all. You keep going on about how much it meant, isn’t it the same thing? You two are on the same page, right?”

“No,” Jimmy furrowed his brow. “It’s not… it’s not… I’m going to give them a piece of mind.” He grabbed the new shot, downed it and hopped off the bar stool. 

“What?”

“That tattoo parlor, I’m giving them a talking too…” he stormed out of the bar. It was freezing out, and he pulled out Thomas’ gloves and groaned a bit at the sight of them but shoved them on his hands. He looked around the street and breathed out, his breath hung in the hair white in front of him for a moment. What was the name of the tattoo parlor? It’d been something mythical, right? Manticore? Phoenix? Something with feathers? Maybe it was a bird? Eagle? He looked left and right. 

His brain was blank. There was just black when he tried to remember past moaning about Thomas going back to Philip. He’d been a right sad sack that night. He was a soppy git when it came to Thomas. It was irritating. He stomped down the sidewalk, going right for lack of any other idea. He looked at the doors, all business, or bars. No tattoo parlors. He stood in front of a nail salon, that did piercings and thought they might know where he wanted to go — but it was late, and they were closed. 

Almost everything but the restaurants and bars were closed — and those would start shutting their doors soon. He needed to find the bloody place, he looked around and stopped a guy with a lot of piercings. 

“You know where the tattoo parlor is?”

“What tattoo parlor?”

“I don’t know, the Manticore or the Eagle?”

“Never heard of it, mate,” he said and walked on.

Jimmy frowned and kept walking. Finding nothing, not sign, he walked down the other side of the street. Not on tattoo parlor? Where was it then? Had he gone down an alley? Onto another street? He spun around on the road… 

He wanted to shout. He wanted to yell at someone. He wanted to blame someone else for everything. But it was pointless. Wasn’t it? He didn’t even know the bloody name of the place. He was freezing, his anger seemed to have burned off all the alcohol in his system. He stomped back to the bar, walked it, but Alfred left of course. Bloody useless git, he could’ve at least gone looking with him. Why hadn’t he bloody stopped him the other night, come to think of it, and he pulled out his cellphone and called him? He didn’t answer, but Jimmy bit out a message.

“It’s bloody fault too, why didn’t you stop me wandering off… git.” 

He turned back around and made his way home. His mind spinning. He didn’t know what he wanted — at least not past the thought of Thomas. He wanted Thomas. He wanted Thomas for years. Years of friendship and an attraction that only grew and never died down. He wanted Thomas to want him, he wanted Thomas attention. He wanted Thomas. But he never thought about what it might mean, what it might do to their friendship…

Alfred was his mate. But Thomas was his real best mate. Thomas was who he thought when he fell asleep. Who thought about when he woke up. Who he dreamed about. It was always there, under his skin and he liked him. He liked him more than anyone else. Pride, laughter, in-jokes, and he was the best person to snark with about other people and other things. 

He was it.

But. 

Jimmy pulled off his coat and Thomas’ gloves in the elevator of his building. He shoved up his jumper sleeve and stared at the tattoo. He licked his lips and stared at it. Thomas’ work. His dream. His name. Jimmy sighed — he was proud of him and he been daydreaming. Daydreaming about how that design might look on his skin. No idea when the idea slid into his mind to tattoo it on himself — maybe looking at all the sketches. Or hearing Thomas talking about making the black and white schematics into something solid…

He watched Thomas make watches and it was art, at least in Thomas’ hands but it wasn’t something he understood. Too mechanical. It wasn’t sound like music or beauty like drawing. He drawn it, the exact design on his skin, he drew it — this one wasn’t his hand though, though it was exact anyway. Somehow? 

How was it even possible? Maybe more alcohol was in his system than he thought? He couldn’t find the place, he couldn’t remember its name — he remembered nothing. That tattoo felt alive to him as stared at it, Thomas name so bold, felt bolder every time. But it was mocking him wasn’t it?

There wasn’t some magic involved. He laughed at himself at the thought. He was just soppy. He’d been drunk. Anger flared his belly again, he was pissed… he was pissed at whoever owned the needle that did that to his skin. Hadn’t they seen he was out of it? Hadn’t they known he was too drunk to make such a decision? 

“You did it, you git,” he muttered and shoved his sleeve back down, just as the elevator opened up on his floor. He stepped out of the elevator and blinked in surprise. Thomas was standing in front of his door, looking ready to leave but when he saw Jimmy his face lit up, and he smiled. Jimmy took one look at his dimpled face, right into Thomas’ eyes all lit up for him and melted.

“Hey,” he said.

“I was about to leave.”

“Got here in just in time then…” Jimmy’s grin widened taking Thomas in. 

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Wasn’t sure you’d want to see me?”

“What? Why?” Jimmy asked, but he knew, he knew why and it was screaming in his head that he wasn’t ready to face it all. But Thomas was in front of him, right there, beautiful and real. 

“Because…”

“Doesn’t matter,” he muttered eyeing Thomas. The full length of him, his mouth and how he took up all of Jimmy’s attention.

“Doesn’t it?”

“Just…” Jimmy fished his keys out of his pocket and rushed for his door. He unlocked it, pulled Thomas inside with him, closed it behind them and turned toward Thomas. 

“Jimmy?”

“You…” he dropped his jacket moved forward, pushing Thomas’ coat off his shoulders and attaching his mouth to his neck. He tasted like winter, cold and pure and licked at his skin. Thomas let out a breathy noise, and his coat fell to the floor. Cold hands grabbed his face, Thomas pulling him into a kiss and he opened right up into it and grabbed at Thomas belt. He tugged on it and pulled him through his apartment, down the hall, and into his bedroom. 

He tugged at Thomas’ clothes and kissed all the skin that in reach of his mouth and his hands. He shoved Thomas onto his bed and looked down at him in nothing but black boxers and white skin… It was dark in his room, but he could just make out enough to feel lost in his attraction. It was like Thomas glowed, ethereal in a way that drove Jimmy mad. He climbed over him and captured his mouth in his. This was the easy the part, he thought, and hadn’t they waited far too long?

“Jimmy…” it was in his ear, and Thomas was pulling at his jumper. He froze for a moment, having forgotten the tattoo as want took hold of him. Thomas made a sound of annoyance and spoke his name again. “Jimmy…”

It was dark. His room was dark. He moved his mouth against Thomas’ to chase away the annoyance. He wasn’t stopping, he couldn’t stop, didn’t want to stop. He wanted Thomas underneath him, and he wanted them both naked. It was dark, and he wouldn’t see it — and even if he did, there was no way he could make out any of the important details. Jimmy’s secret was safe. 

“Shh…” he whispered into Thomas' mouth, and he felt Thomas' hands tug on his jumper again, and he pulled away only long enough for it to be torn off of him, and he was back against Thomas, chest to chest. They grappled, both all hands and open mouths. Pulling at clothing until they were both naked and Jimmy found himself under Thomas, his heart beating wildly in his chest as Thomas stared down at him.

He could barely see him, but he felt like he was being seen into. His fears rose up, but Thomas chased them by rolling his hips down and against Jimmy, their erections sliding together, followed by Thomas' hand, wrapping around both of them. He hissed at the touch, his hips bucked up, and he realized how needy he was, how ready he was and that neither of them could possibly last all that long. 

It’d been too long coming.


	17. Chapter 17

December 17th 

They fell asleep kissing. Thomas blinked away the memory of Jimmy’s lower lip between his own, his hand twisted in the hair on the back of his head, pushing him closer, their legs entangled. He was warm and drowsy, and he was smiling too much, making it almost hard to properly kiss. Then there was the fuzziness of the moment winning out, and he fell asleep face on Jimmy’s neck. Soft, heated skin, he sighed… 

But now he was waking up, and his face was against a scratchy pillowcase. Thomas moved, arms and body seeking out that heat that belonged only to Jimmy. But all he found was an empty space. He frowned and his eyes opened fully, and the bed was empty. The room was empty. He rolled onto his back and sighed. 

He wanted to wake up curled around Jimmy. He rubbed his eyes and stretched a bit, his body protesting against the harder mattress of Jimmy’s bed. His place, next time, he thought, and he got off of the bed and found his boxers, he was cold and started to look for his shirt but saw the jumper, Jimmy had been wearing last night. He picked it up and pulled on, it smelled like Jimmy and smiled and felt instantly warmer. 

Thomas smiled more as he stepped into the hallway because he heard Jimmy singing. Along to the Christmas music he had playing — though it seemed to be only instrumental, Jimmy providing his own vocals and Thomas felt something warm settle in his bones at the tone of it and the vibrations. He closed his a second, to catch his breath before he found himself walking into Jimmy’s kitchen. 

Coffee was in the pot, and he was cooking scrambled eggs. Enough for two and it made Thomas ache in the best way to watch Jimmy doing it. He felt his ever-present smile grow. “Morning.”

Jimmy yelped. 

Thomas laughed. 

“Don’t… sneak up on me.”

“Didn’t realize I did,” Thomas laughed.

“I was…” Jimmy blushed. “I was singing.”

Thomas grinned. 

“Uh…” Jimmy looked oddly bashful, and Thomas found it odd. 

“Since when are you shy?”

Jimmy shrugged and ducked his head. “Don’t you…. You make me nervous.”

Thomas shook his head in disbelief.

Jimmy pinned him with his eyes. “You do.”

“I shouldn’t…” Thomas said. 

Jimmy shrugged. “I made them extra cheesy, I know you like that…”

“How?” Thomas asked because it was true but how did Jimmy know.

“Don’t know, just do…” Jimmy said. 

“Guess, you just know me.”

Jimmy was staring at his chest, his eyes slowly going back up to his face. “That’s my jumper.”

“It looked more comfortable…” Thomas felt a rush of shyness himself and looked away. 

“Looks… good,” Jimmy coughed and focused on putting the eggs on plates for them. 

Thomas felt himself blush and he was smiling, again, he couldn’t seem to stop. 

Jimmy started grinning and grabbed onto the fabric of it. “Real good…” his mouth was against Thomas. Thomas’ hand flew to Jimmy's hips and pulled him into him, closer — needed him closer. They kissed, smiling against each other’s mouths until it started to get more heated. Thomas started pulling on the jumper Jimmy was wearing but then Jimmy was pulling away from him…

Thomas tugged to keep him from getting too far away. 

Jimmy was staring at him, his eyes dark with want but his expression stranger. “I… the eggs will get cold,” he said.

“What?” Thomas shook his head because who cared about eggs? 

“Food… when was the last time you ate? I know how you get, Thomas Barrow…” he grinned him and stepped back more. Thomas felt the fabric of his shirt fall away from his fingers. 

“I…”

“You work too hard and don’t eat enough…” Jimmy held up the plate of eggs, and Thomas realized as the smell hit his nose that Jimmy was right. He was starving. 

“Fine,” he said and took the plate. 

Jimmy nodded and gave him a cheeky smile. “Come on…” he led them into his living room. Thomas looked around at the decorations. It was the same motif as been at his parent's home. Cozy Christmas theme that made you wish for snow outside the window and hot chocolate. Jimmy’s flat felt more lived in than his own he thought as he sat down next to him on the couch. He looked out the window and was disappointed to see no snow swirling outside the window. 

“No snow,” Jimmy said echoing Thomas’ disappointment. 

“Yeah…” Thomas frowned. 

Jimmy picked up the remote to his stereo system and turned off the music. Thomas gave him a look. “What?”

“Why you do that for?”

“Cause…” he turned on his television and flipped stations until he found some cheesy Christmas movie playing. 

Thomas watched a woman and man kissing awkwardly under the mistletoe and laughed. “Really?”

“Why not?” Jimmy shrugged. 

“Don’t know…”

“Sybbie like her presents?” Jimmy asked. 

“Yeah, I gave her too much.”

“I’m shocked.”

Thomas blushed and looked away from him. “She um… she wondered where you were. Told you she’d want to see you.”

“Did she?” Jimmy sounded surprised.

Thomas looked at him. “Of course… I should warn you, though.”

“What?”

“She wants to learn how to play Let It Go, so she can sing it.”

Jimmy groaned. “Not the first time I’ve heard that request…”

Thomas chuckled amusedly.

“It’s not funny,” Jimmy argued, but he was smiling. 

Thomas put his plate down and grabbed Jimmy’s hand, tugging on it until Jimmy shifted closer to him. He leaned forward and pressed their mouths together. He felt too far away from him, and it was the last thing he wanted to be. Jimmy sighed against his lips, and they kissed until it started to get heated again until Thomas tried to pull Jimmy onto his lap. 

Jimmy pulled away. “Eggs.”

“Huh?”

He lifted up the plate he still had in his hands. “Don’t want to spill…”

Thomas grabbed it and put it down. “Fixed..” He whispered and went to kiss him. 

Jimmy moved out of reach and looked away. 

The warmth under Thomas’ skin vanished. He stared at Jimmy’s profile, noted a clenched jaw and how Jimmy was rubbing his left forearm. That was a new, that wasn’t a usual habit, and he wondered if it was because of them… Did he want this that much more than him? Thomas closed his eyes and tried to tamper down the mess of emotions suddenly threatened them. They both wanted this? Jimmy wanted him? At least in his bed? 

Was that it?

“We should talk,” Thomas heard himself say and instantly braced himself for disappointment. 

Jimmy looked back at him, right hand wrapped around his left wrist. He stared right at Thomas and swallowed. Audibly. “Not… later.” 

“Later?” Thomas shook his head. “Why?”

“It’s… Almost Christmas.”

“I know.”

“You have the launch…” Jimmy looked away. 

“I’m here. Now.”

“I know that,” Jimmy snapped. “I just… it’s busy, right? I have family things, and you have the company. And it’s just. Can’t we just be this?”

“This?” Thomas laughed. “You just pushed me away, Jimmy…” he moved forward and touched Jimmy’s thigh. Pressed his palm against his thigh, realizing he put on jeans, he covered himself up completely in his clothes. While Thomas was in boxers and Jimmy’s jumper… “You do want this? Me?”

“Yes,” Jimmy yelled, and it was panicked. “Yes…. I just…”

“What?”

“It’s a lot, isn’t it!” Jimmy shouted. 

“It is… but it’s what I want, Jimmy. You. Me. I want us…” his hands flew to Jimmy’s face. “We have so much… we’re…” he stared into Jimmy’s eyes, so blue and too panicked. Something twisted hard and uncomfortable inside of him. 

“I…” Jimmy breathed out, and his face softened, his eyes softened. 

Thomas felt hope flare up, and he went to kiss him. 

And Jimmy squirmed out of his touch. 

“Why are you doing this?” Thomas whispered. 

Jimmy stared at him and shook his head. Then looked away. 

Thomas sighed. 

Jimmy stood up and walked over to his piano. His fingers hit the keys, but they weren’t making music, just noise, sound. Thomas felt something cold flow down his spine, and he sucked in his cheeks. He stared at Jimmy’s back and willed him to turn back around. He didn’t want to ask. He didn’t want to beg. He wanted…

He thought about the watch, all that time putting together the components himself, building it, and creating Jimmy his own specific design. Pouring everything into it, putting it in the box and handing it over to him. He thought they were together, he thought they both were finally going to stop denying what been going on between them from the moment they met…

“Jimmy,” his name was a broken whisper, and he wished immediately it hadn’t left his throat. 

But nothing happened. Jimmy stood where he was, randomly hitting keys and creating nothing but notes that amounted to nothing. Nothing. Thomas stood up and walked back to the bedroom. Seeing the bed a mess, seeing clothes still strewn on the floor. It hurt now, there was no warmth or ache. He pulled off Jimmy’s jumper and hated himself for inhaling its scent as he did…

He pulled on the black suit he'd worn yesterday and found his shoes. He ran a hand over his face and pulled out his cellphone. Twenty calls. Probably twenty fires to be dealt with at the company. Jimmy was right. He had something else to focus on, he was busy, and this meant almost everything to him…

Almost. 

He made his way back down the hall. Jimmy was at the piano, still standing, and doing nothing. Thomas glared at his back and made his way over to the door. He paused before opening it. Hoping. Despite it all hoping for Jimmy to stay something. To stop him from leaving. He looked back, and Jimmy was looking at him. Eyes wide, he looked frightened, but Thomas couldn’t tell why….

_Is he afraid I’m leaving or afraid I might stay?_

“I just need…” Jimmy’s voice sounded stuck in his throat. 

“What?”

“Time.”

Thomas sighed, annoyed. “Right. Time. Cause we haven’t wasted so much… we haven’t been dancing around this for years. I thought we were there, Jimmy. You said we were…”

“I said I still needed some time.”

“How much more, Jimmy? Another bloody year?”

“No.”

“Then when?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’m ready now. Now, Jimmy.”

“I know that!”

Thomas glared at him. 

“I just… it’s so much so fast.”

“It’s not fast.”

“It feels fast. It was zero miles per hour Thomas, and then it was 100. We went from a holding pattern into…”

“You started last night,” Thomas accused.

“You showed up at my door.”

“To talk.”

“Sex was easier…” Jimmy sighed. 

“Right… Sex was it?” 

Jimmy’s face fell. “Thomas, I didn’t mean…”

“I’m leaving,” Thomas felt like he was shattering. He didn’t know how he opened the door, it felt so heavy, but he did, and he walked out and closed it behind him. He leaned against the door and swallowed, hard, big gulps of air and fought not to let the tears that were making his eyes hurt to fall. 

He did have things to do. His entire life wasn’t Jimmy Kent.


	18. Chapter 18

December 22nd 

Thomas inwardly flinched as his employees fled his presence. He was being a prick. Pure and simple. He wanted one thing to go right, just one thing, so he wanted the launch for his Spiral Pocket Watch to be perfect. Utterly and completely perfect. But he was short staffed, and the main lesson he was going to take from the situation was he never going to launch a new product on Boxing Day again.

And he wasn’t going to risk his heart in the midst of professional chaos ever again — not that he could. No, he risked his heart, putting it out there on the pal of hands for Jimmy to take…

And it still pounded in his hands. 

Jimmy was it. It. And he'd known it from the first second and wasted too much time. He thought. Thomas shook himself and walked over to his desk to look over the latest paperwork, the latest contracts he needed to go through and make sure were perfect. It was all he had left. He risked his heart on what he thought was his sure thing.

How wasn’t it? He frowned and picked up the paperwork, but he was too tense to sit. He read it, pacing up and down in front of the windows of his office. It was nothing but pitch black outside of them, a dark day but with no snow. It was bleak and cold. It fit. He thought, Jimmy there in his head, in his heart, under his skin…

It’d been days, and he couldn’t shake him. It was pathetic. He was pathetic. Stupid, foolish, romantic. But Jimmy wanted him, he felt it too? Thomas had been so sure, so sure… 

 

It felt so right in Jimmy’s bed, in his arms, laughing and lustful. Passion. It hadn’t felt like sex, no he knew what that was like — it was more than that and he was sure. He looked into Jimmy’s eyes and saw it, that thing that was bigger than them, bigger than the moment…

But there been fear too and Thomas ignored it. 

He looked at the papers in his head and realized he hadn’t retained a word he read, he wasn’t really reading it. He was pacing and preoccupied with his broken heart. Was it really going to end like this? He thought, and he pulled out his cellphone. He had messages, and he told himself not to get his hopes up as he scrolled through them. Branson, Mary Crawley, work-related, work related, Branson, Daisy, work-related. 

No Jimmy.

He opened up a message to Jimmy and stared at the screen. His throat dry. He wanted to reach out. He wanted to try. But wouldn’t it just give him more of the same? Jimmy and him, together, laughing and staring into each other — and it felt so right. Until Jimmy slammed down a wall and pushed Thomas away. 

The door to his office opened, no knocking, no intercom to tell him someone wanted to see him. He turned toward it, glaring and shouted, “What.”

Phyllis Baxter walked in and gave him a long and rather sad look He felt himself bristle. “What?” he snapped again. 

She turned around and closed the door behind her. Then walked over to his desk and sat on the edge of it. All the while watching him with that look on her face and there was a determination in her expression. He wanted to throw her out, tell her to get back to work, tell her to stop looking at him like he was about to get lectured. 

“What is going on?” she asked. 

“Uh, let me think. We’ve got a watch to sell on Boxing Day.”

“No, no… because you should be giddy about that and excited not a ponce.” 

“A what?”

“You heard me, Mr. Barrow… what is wrong?”

“I don’t really think it’s any of your business.” 

“So, there is something wrong.”

Thomas showed her the papers in his hands. “I really need to be reading this.”

Phyllis crossed her arms and looked at him. “I’ve been sent in here.”

“What?”

“You’re scaring people and the ones you aren’t scaring you are just pissing off… and it’s almost the 23rd of December. Clock’s ticking and they would all like to start their Christmas weekend since they are all due back Boxing Day.” 

Thomas closed his eyes. “Things need to get done.”

“And they are, Thomas… it’s all well in hand.”

“I have…” he looked at all the other papers on his desk. 

“You’re the one falling behind… because something is wrong.” She smiled and stood up. “I’ve watched you grow up, we’ve always gotten along. Last time we spoke you seemed happier than I’ve ever seen you. What happened?”

 

“Nothing.” Jimmy. 

“Come on, Thomas?” 

He stared at her. She was right he known her his whole life. She taught him more than a thing or two about horology, little things and details his father wouldn’t have thought to teach him — she was the better teacher. He was fond of her, a fond as he got of people… 

“I thought…” he started but stopped. 

“What?”

“I thought I was getting the sun and instead it’s cold.” 

Her eyes widened, and she was near him suddenly, peering into his eyes, looking at his face. “Quite dramatic.”

“It feels dramatic,” Thomas sighed. 

“What is this sun?”

Images of Jimmy flooded Thomas’ mind, his golden hair in his eyes, him shooting Thomas a cheeky smile and rolling his eyes about something. His hands on the piano, creating beautiful sounds and how Jimmy's hand on his skin made him feel beautifully played too… “Jimmy Kent.”

“Jimmy?” Phyllis said. “Is that your blonde and bonny friend, the one you’ve brought to the lab. He was looking at the plans for the Spiral, last time I saw I think.”

Thomas nodded, and he licked his lips, his throat and mouth felt suddenly dry. It was the memories, Jimmy at every step of production. Always supporting him and understanding. Looking like he was in awe of the design. It all felt perfect and solid. How was he treading water now? 

“You love him.”

Thomas laughed. “Is it that obvious.”

“Quite loudly.”

“But he doesn’t…”

“The watch you put together, with the musical notes with the one of the kind of alarm?”

“His. He wrote the music…” 

“Quite talented.”

“You have no idea,” Thomas said.

“I doubt I do… He seemed quite smitten with you, you know. Quite thought you two were together but you always introduced him as a friend.” 

“We were just friends… but I thought.”

“Was there a fight?”

“Not really he just…. Keeps shoving me away and I put everything out there when I gave him the watch.”

“He knows you made it, yourself?”

“Of course.”

“You made it truly personal.”

“Yes.”

“How long were you dating?”

“What?”

“Dating?”

“We’ve never dated, we just… we finally said things, I thought we were finally going to be together.”

“Together?”

“Yes,” Thomas sighed the cracks in his heart feeling like they were growing. “I thought we were finally where we belonged.”

“Friends to forever commitment in the gift of a watch…. Quite a leap.” 

Thomas staggered backward, a bit, almost losing his balance with how hard her words hit him. He started at Phyllis and shook his head, but his heart was pounding, and his head was agreeing. But… 

“We wasted so much time, we were finally coming together, of course, it was going to be a commitment. He knew it…he knew what it meant, and it came from him too. I wasn’t alone.” 

“Still it’s quite a lot,” Phyllis said. “Okay, I need to get back to the lab. Try being nicer to everyone,” she said and moved up and kissed his cheek. “Think about talking with him again… I saw the way he looked at you. I think he’s worth not giving up on.”

Thomas felt a bit of jolt from the unexpected kiss, and her words sounded right, but it was Jimmy who shoved him away. Who was pushing Thomas’ gesture in his face. Thomas shook his head at her suggestion and tried again to shove it all away and made his way to his desk. What was important at the moment was his job, his career, his professional dream if not his personal one.

He’d just have to ignore he felt cold from the inside out. 

~~~

Jimmy stared at the screen of his phone. His foot tapped against the floor, just a tap-tap-tap-tap. He stared at Thomas’ name and at his face. Years ago, on their third meeting — after Sybbie’s third lesson. He had taken it unbeknownst to Thomas. It was probably creepy, he thought in retrospect, but he felt so drawn to him, and he was being given Thomas’ number, and he wanted a photo to go with it. Thomas had been bending down to pick up Sybbie, smiling wide, all dimples, high cheekbones, and a perfect mouth. Jimmy snapped it before he really thought it through…

Staring at it now, remembering, he realized he never told Thomas. Thomas seen his phone over the years, the picture remained… so he either knew and never cared or never thought about how Jimmy got a picture of him. Not that they didn’t have pictures of each other. Jimmy knew if he went to his photo gallery he’d find that more than half of his pictures were of Thomas. And him. Him and Thomas…

Movies.

Concerts. 

An Art Gallery opening Thomas dragged him too, and he’d loved because he loved art and Thomas knew it — and didn’t let him act like it was too fancy him and that he wasn’t happy surrounding by beauty.

All of it just them being friends. 

Jimmy sighed and slouched down on his couch. He’d been relieved. He hated himself for it, but it remained true. He had been relieved when Thomas stormed off and out of the door. Relieved because he felt crushed under the weight of it all. Of them. Of how it was All or Nothing. The beating of that in his chest was suffocating him and making him feel dizzy. 

It was so fast. They went from friends to lovers in a blink. It was a blink. Despite the time wasted and years between meeting and kissing. Because it was Thomas. He was an extremist, Thomas… He could go hot to cold in a second and be fine. Jimmy had seen it again and again. He felt it, but he knew how deeply Thomas felt things and maybe the ramp up sometimes was slower than Jimmy realized…

But they talked about finally getting together and then he was handed a pocket watch that said Forever. 

Forever?

He looked his forearm. The tattoo, healing and beautiful, it screamed Forever. But he'd done it when he thought he lost Thomas. He was sure Thomas was falling back into his bad pattern with Phillip. The assumption drove him to drink, to get drunk before nine o’clock on a Thursday night. Why? Why had he walked into a tattoo parlor and done it?

He scowled. That tattoo artist, that damn unknown person shouldn’t have done it. Shouldn’t give a drunk man, a huge tattoo when he wasn’t in his right mind. He was blackout drunk, he frowned and stood up. Wanting to rail at someone else, wanting to shout someone down, wanting to blame someone…

He put forever on his skin when he thought he lost him, it didn’t even make sense, and he was terrified now. It never should’ve happened, he didn’t care how beautiful the tattoo was, how much it made him ache, how much he missed Thomas…

He wanted to run after him. He wanted to run after him, but the problem was he nothing new to say. He was afraid, it was all too much, he still needed time and Thomas wasn’t patient. Thomas was done waiting for him, he thought they…

 

They had made love, and he hated himself for hiding behind the act sex, using it as a barrier rather than as something to bring them closer. But forever was the scariest thing he knew. He wasn’t a grown up. He was impulsive. He was stupid and didn’t think things through.

He tore into his bedroom and to the trashcan he had stashed in the corner. He started pulling things out of it. The bag had to be in there, the name of the damn place. He was going to give someone a piece of his mind. He found it and grinned…. Griffin Tattoos. The address was on the bag. Feeling triumphant he turned tailed, grabbed his keys and left his flat.


	19. Chapter 19

December 22nd tick tock

It was empty. Jimmy blinked. It was late but it was a tattoo parlor, and for some reason, he thought it'd be busy. It'd being a Friday night. A lot of drunk people out there to take advantage of… 

But it was empty. The door was open though, and Christmas music was blaring out of some sort of stereo system. It was poppy and bubble gum and felt disconnected to the room he was standing in. With the bright lights and gothic art on most of the walls. If it wasn’t gothic, it was mythological. He found himself staring at the walls and the examples, hundred of possible tattoos on the walls — designed to capture people’s imaginations and the urge to put it on their skin. It wasn’t just the styles that were sectioned, there were names — artists he supposed. Jimmy's eyes traveled up and down the walls, looking for the style that was on his forearm. 

It wasn’t there. A lot like there wasn’t anyone there with him. He looked around more and saw a door that led to the back, he supposed. It was ajar and walked toward and knocked on what turned out to be a metal door. “Hello?”

“Hello…” a male voice called out, and then he appeared in the short hallway. He short and bulky, with a green mohawk and he took one look at Jimmy and broke out in a wide, friendly grin. “You, it’s you…“Tell me your plan worked, because it was epic, man,” he said his American accent as jarring as the words.

“Yeah… Show him how important he was to you, sweep him off his feet?”

Jimmy stared at him like he had two heads instead of a mohawk. He shook his head because that wasn’t… 

“What? It’s Jimmy right?”

“Yeah… NO,” Jimmy shouted. 

“Your name isn’t Jimmy?”

“It’s Jimmy, alright but I’m not here to be friendly… You go around tattooing people too drunk to remember?”

“What? No? I never do drunken tattoos.”

“THEN WHAT IS THIS!” Jimmy shoved his arm in his face.

“Shit… man, that’s lit… It healed well and damned that new gold ink I got was a good call…the name pops.”

“Yeah, it pops, it pops GLARINGLY.” 

“Dude you picked it.”

“I was drunk of me head… OFF ME HEAD,” Jimmy shoved his fingers inot the guy's chest.

“Seriously?”

“Yes.”

“I mean you were a bit buzzed… but you were so clear.”

“Clear?”

“Yeah, I mean you were having trouble drawing…. Why I drew it? I”m pretty good with direction and you were clear, very clear, specifically annoyingly clear — and kind of bossy.”

“I was off me head. I remember nothing, nothing at all.”

“So, uh, you didn’t show him and make your stand for you man?”

“What?”

“It was your grand plan. You were going to come clean and tell him how you felt. And offer him, you know, your soul… It was romantic, fuck, I was nearly crying. I’m a romantic, I am. You kept talking about, I mean, hell, I think I fell a bit in love with Thomas.” 

“Don’t say his name,” Jimmy hissed at him. 

“Okay, possessive… So, you didn’t show him?”

Jimmy flinched. “No, I can’t… I can’t….” He felt like he couldn’t breathe. “I was drunk.” 

“I’m starting to believe you, but dude you were so focused and clear. You were going to tell him everything, put it all out there and not let that dick — as you kept calling him get him. Then you started talking about him. You know the kind of details only someone totally gone for someone would say…”

“I was…” Jimmy stared at the guy and his green mohawk. He a dopey grin and seemed so damn down to earth. He was starting to feel less angry and just confused. “I had a plan?”

“Yeah.”

“I was clear?”

“Crystal…” he pointed to Jimmy’s arm. “You were bossy, man, really bossy, you wanted it perfect. And you picked the gold, for his name… you said you wanted it to pop.” 

Jimmy stared down at his arm, at all the black lines and swirls and the pop of gold that was Thomas’ name. Standing out, loud and clear, unmissable. Just like Thomas himself. 

“I mean, that design is all you… I was just listening, you know. You want the drawing? I noticed I forgot to put it in your bag…” he turned and started walking away.

“Where are you going? I’m not done…” Jimmy trailed off. 

Pete turned back to look at him. “Really, Jimmy, I wouldn’t done it if you seemed that drunk. You were so sure…clarity of focus.”

Jimmy snorted and found himself following the guy into a room. He started going through a bunch of paper on a desk. He looked around the room. It was a mess and the opposite of the main room of the parlor. It was cozy almost, but the same bubblegum pop Christmas music was playing. Pete was humming along to the song… 

“Merry Christmas…” he sang with the chorus. “You really aren’t buying it?”

“That I had clarity? I never have clarity…” Jimmy shook his head. 

“So… like is he with the dick?”

Jimmy chuckled. “No. I was wrong. He didn’t get back with him…” 

“That’s great, so you told him?”

“What exactly?”

“That you love him.” 

Jimmy gulped. “What?”

“That you love him? You said you were going to put it all out there. That you love him and all you want is to be with him.” 

“I said that…” Jimmy stared at him.

“More than once… maybe I was a bit dense on the drunk thing. But you were so detailed about the design…AH…here it is.” Pete handed him a piece of paper.

Jimmy looked at a drawing of the watch. A rough drawing. It barely resembled what was on his arm. He looked at it and to Pete. “Um?”

“You were bossy man… I’ve never done such good work, I gotta say. You’re probably my masterpiece.” 

Jimmy snorted again. 

“You told him?”

“I told him… I told him I wanted him, that I wanted us. But I didn’t….”

“No, I love you?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

Jimmy reached into his pocket and pulled out the pocket watch and held it up next to his head. 

“WHOA?” Pete moved close and peered at it. “WHOA… that is fancy, and that is a masterpiece.”

“He made it.”

“He made it?”

“Literally… as much as he could, given the tech — but he made it. For me.” 

“Guess you two are on the same wavelength, huh?”

Jimmy shivered. “I freaked out.” 

“What?”

“He gave me this, and it was forever, it was… this is… you don’t know Thomas. This is his heart, and he just handed it to me. Like it was nothing. Like it was easy. To just hand over himself to me. ME?”

“That’s a problem?”

“Me?” Jimmy’s breathe stuttered, and he reached out, grabbing Pete’s shoulders and smacking the man in the chest. “What the hell does he want me for?”

“Have to ask him, man.” 

“He’s soft. He’s so soft… he’s romantic. He’s a fucking romantic. And he’s arsehole unless he looks at with those eyes…. Those eyes, Pete… those damn gray eyes look at me, and I don’t know who he’s staring at.” 

“You.”

“That’s crazy? I’m a mess. I fuck up. I get tattooed when drunk.” 

“You had plan, man…” 

“A drunk plan.”

“You were clear.”

“What?”

“You said you knew. You realized that you couldn’t take another minute without him. That the phone call was uh… whatcha say… A wake-up call. You were really clear that it hit you in the gut you couldn’t let him be with that other guy… the one you kept calling dick. That you loved him and he needed to know but that he wouldn’t believe you unless you made a bold gesture. Said he liked bold gestures.”

“No. He does bold gestures…” Jimmy swung the watch between them.

“Nice notes…” Pete said looking at it and started humming. “Huh, catchy but I don’t recognize it.”

Jimmy blinked, shocked by Pete humming his music. “I wrote it.”

“Well fuck me…” Pete slapped him on the shoulder again. “Want them added in?”

“Huh?”

“To the tat man?”

Jimmy blinked and opened his mouth to say no but paused. Then he shook his head. No. Not now. Not… “Maybe. But not now.” 

“You should do it.”

“I said not now.”

“I mean telling him. Thomas. The whole thing. The wanting forever.”

“I don’t…” Jimmy started, but he swallowed it quickly and swore he tasted the lie of it on his tongue. “He’s a grown-up.”

“Thomas? Sounded like a right arse.”

Jimmy scowled at him. “What, you said you fell for him a bit?”

“I did. But man, I always fall for troublemakers, you know… my last girlfriend had the sharpest tongue, but damn she did know how to use it…”

“Shut up.”

“Not into women?”

“I”m into women, I just don’t want to visualize you… and weren’t we talking about me? I made him sound like an arse?”

“It was something about how the two would snark about soccer moms for hours…”

Jimmy laughed. “Uh, yeah, we kind of bonded making fun of my student’s parents…” 

“What you teach? Art?”

“Piano and guitar.”

“Sweet.”

“I’m confused.” Jimmy sighed. 

“I’m assuming you don’t mean the bisexual thing?”

“No. Thomas…. Stay on topic, Pete.”

“Ah, I’ve heard that before.”

Jimmy glared at him. 

“Look. You came in here. You already started trying to draw the watch, you were all excited about your plan. You were going to tell him everything, all the years of pent up thoughts and feelings. About how you hate wine but like watching him talk about it, something about hating ties but you’d wear them for him when he dragged you pretentious places — which you kind of like but you’ll never admit that…. I mean you were pretty sappy.”

“And yet you missed I was drunk.”

“You were clear. You kept saying you realized you were in too deep, you loved him and there was no backing that up once it hit you. And you wanted a bold gesture, said he’d get that…” Pete hit the pocket watch with his fingers it swung again. 

Jimmy watched it, swinging on its chain and he sighed. “He does them all the time… this isn’t even…. I mean we… I’m all wrong for him. He’s so put together, knows what he wants… he decided he wanted me. I thought, I thought it be okay, but I don’t… Why me?”

“Again, have to ask Tom.”

“Thomas,” Jimmy quickly corrected.

“Ask him.”

“I can’t.

“Sure you can,” Pete said. “You love him, right?”

“I…”

“And it’s Christmas.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“It’s magic, right…. Things that might seem impossible can happen on Christmas.”

“He’s the one who can do anything, do the impossible…” Jimmy sighed. 

“Jimmy, Jimmy…. That tattoo happened 'cause you drunk off your ass dictated every line and swirl… And look at what you’re holding. It’s the same bloody watch, except for a few differences, it eerily uncanny…. You sure you don’t want me to add the notes?” 

“Not now…” Jimmy murmured.

“Go do it.”

“It?”

“The plan.”

“Which was?”

“You tell him you love him and show him the tattoo. You were sure he’d understand what you meant on sight of it.”

“He will…” Jimmy swallowed.

“Go, Go, Jimmy and get your man….” Pete started pushing him, through into the main part of the shop and out the door, into the cold air and it made Jimmy shiver. “And come back here and tell me how awesome it was dude and I’ll add the notes.” 

Jimmy blinked. Pete slapped his shoulder one more time and closed the door, locked it and flipped the sign to closed. Jimmy stood there and ended up scratching the back of his neck. His heart was pounding, but it been pounding. His head hurt. He felt weird and spun. He felt confused. He wanted to make a big and bold gesture. He wanted to show Thomas he loved him. He looked at the pocket watch, took it into both his hands and lifted it up this face. He stared at all the perfect details and then at his forearm.

Clear?

He’d been so clear?’

He was never clear.

He wasn’t now.

Jimmy frowned and wondered how you got an epiphany you couldn’t remember back. But he started home, Pete’s words and explanation echoing in his mind and Thomas. Thomas was in his mind. Them in his bedroom, back in the house where he’d been a teenager. Thomas with that look on his face…

Soft and… “Terrified, he was terrified,” Jimmy whispered it to himself, he missed it then. Lost in Thomas’ eyes that though were vulnerable also were focused and clear. Because he was looking at him, Jimmy thought…

He had that look. The one where Jimmy fooled himself into thinking meant Thomas cared more than he was sharing, than he was saying — and it was true, it was true. Thomas loved him. Thomas told him despite being afraid.

“I’m a dick,” Jimmy muttered to himself, and he felt exhausted. He had too many things in his head, he was trying to process what he learned about the night he got the tattoo….

He needed a shower.

He needed sleep.

He needed Thomas.


	20. Chapter 20

December 23 in FF 

Thomas 

"Mr. Barrow?" his assistant blinked up at him. She looked bored and tired. He glanced at the time and bit of guilt settled on his shoulders. He dropped some paperwork on her desk.

"Once you get that sent out you can go home."

"You as well?" she asked.

"No. I'll be in the lab," he said, and with that, he turned around. He felt it each time his feet pressed against the floor, he was stomping down the hall. He'd been stomping every where. All he knew he needed to keep busy, keep focused, only think about watches. Because if he stayed focus on his watches, he would be fine, it would be fine, and he would get through to the launch without any problems.

Or feeling like his life was falling apart. Jimmy Kent wasn't allowed in his head. Because if he were… 

No. 

Thomas settled into his lab. Suit jacket and tie off and a white lab coat on. He sat down on his bench and grabbed the pieces to make another specialty design. Something more streamline, something less creative, something almost boring -- because boring people existed and he wanted to appeal to the masses. Besides Jimmy's been different, Jimmy's been singular and unique to him…

Jimmy's was the most beautiful watch he made, and Thomas sighed. He wiped at his eyes and pretended they weren't wet. This was exactly what he wasn't supposed to be doing. He took a breath, then another, and he pulled the piece of paper with the simpler design on it. He nodded and started gathering the parts, all in their correct little piles. He set it up all painstakingly and careful. Mind on the details, because horology made it and broke it in the little details.

He got lost in the details, he told himself he got lost. He didn't have Baxter's words about leaping too fast in his mind, and he wasn't remembering Jimmy's mouth against his throat…

Jimmy 

Pete was in his head. Talking about a Jimmy, he didn't recognize. He scowled and splashed more water on his face. It was freezing cold, and it made him tense up when it hit his face. He needed to knock Pete out of his head. Talking about how clear and focused he was…

As if. 

Jimmy frowned. He'd never known that, ever, he was either always second guessing or never thinking anything through -- because if he did he might not do it. And really what was fun about that? But he was over thinking now, the second-guessing taking up a new life. And he preferred not thinking, and he thought…

He thought he hadn't thought through the tattoo. 

Even though the design for it been in his head for months. He idly designed it in his mind as gave the same lesson after lesson to different kids. He idly designed it as he fiddled about with his guitar and on the piano. He idly designed it when he sat in Thomas' lab and watched the watch move through its stages until the final design was decided on…

The final design that could be special ordered to change. And now, he was not thinking about his watch. The perfect fucking watch, beautiful and him and how well Thomas knew him -- understood him. 

No. 

He stomped out of his bathroom and down the hall. He opened the piano and sat down and started playing. Nothing but noise, he banged out noise, noise, and noise. Until it turned to music, maybe hours or not later, it started turning into music. Looking for an answer, looking for an epiphany he couldn't remember having….

Because Pete was in his head telling him he been focused, clear and that he wanted the exact same thing as Thomas…

Which was what he wished for, he wished for them to be on the same page.

Then when they were, he was trying to jump out of it.

He shook his head, doubt and worry rising up. Wondering what Thomas was thinking, feeling unready and uncertain in a way he wasn't used to admitting to… 

He started playing nothing but noise again…

December 24th 

"Jimmy?"

It was music again he thought with a frown and less angry. He wasn't happy about it, fighting something over and over again. He started to playing noise again, slamming his fingers against the keys.

"Jimmy."

He played and played nothing until it turned into that something. Again. He frowned and went to switch back to the noise when there was a hand on his shoulder and his name in his ear. 

"JIMMY."

He jolted, noise sounded in the air again and then it was silent. Eerily quiet, in a way it hadn't been for a long time and he almost didn't know how to recognize it. He wanted noise. 

"Jimmy?"

He turned and saw Ivy. Staring at him wide-eyed with worry. It bothered him; he hated when she looked like that… and he knew he was why but he wasn't quite sure why. "Why're hear?"

"Cause we have we have dinner every Christmas Eve, just the two of us, remember?" she said.

"It's Christmas Eve?"

"Yeah."

He blinked and looked at the piano.

"Your neighbors must all be out of town…" she said. "Never heard you play so loud."

"Uh…" he looked at the piano. "Was trying to not think."

"Isn't that easy?" she teased.

He frowned. 

"What is wrong?" she slid onto the piano bench with him. 

"Everything…" he muttered.

"Did something happen with Thomas? I thought you two were finally getting it right?"

Jimmy shook his head. 

"What did you do?"

"Why do you think it's my fault?"

"Jimmy," Ivy laughed a bit.

"Right… I excel at screwing things up."

"What didn't you think through?"

"No, that's the problem, I thought it through… I thought it through and freaked out."

"About?"

"Thomas."

"You love him."

Jimmy blushed and looked at the piano keys. He wasn't sure he liked people knowing his emotions. He wasn't sure about them, but they were strong. Had a life of their own and it was clear. To everyone. He loved Thomas. _Except Thomas,_ he thought and that was all his fault. 

"It's been obvious for a long time."

"He gave me something."

"For Christmas?"

"No…" Jimmy laughed. "It was… It was for me, for helping him the pocket watch he's launching on Boxing Day."

"You helped with that?"

"He thinks so… I was just listening and supporting." 

"What he give you?"

Jimmy dug into his pocket, because it was there because he couldn't seem to keep it in its box and away. Like he wanted too. It meant too much. He pulled the pocket watch out and handed it to her. 

"Oh. Wow…" she whispered and opened it. "Oooh…" 

Jimmy looked at it in her hands, it looked larger that way, and it took his breathe away. Like it did every time. Thomas made it, every detail -- "he puts a lot of hands-on making into his watches you know…"

"It's their slogan."

"Yeah, well Thomas takes it seriously… he made it, his hands, on probably all the details."

"Is this your first song?" her fingers traced the notes. "It is?"

"Yeah…"

"That's sweet, he's really sweet? He seems so cynical."

"He's both," Jimmy muttered.

"Like you," Ivy asked. 

Jimmy shrugged. 

"Jimmy?"

"He gave me that… we were just starting to talk about us being… well an us. We were just starting to think on it, it was happening, but it was just starting. Then he hands me that…"

"And?"

"And…" he stared at it. "Don't you get it, Ivy? He wants forever."

Ivy stared at him, then the watch and back at him. "Don't you?"

 _Yes._ His heart lurched. "I don't know…" fear broke through. 

"Oh, please, you do, and you know it."

"Do I?"

"Yes," Ivy said, and she reached over him to grab his left arm. "Look at what you did." 

He closed his eyes, Pete's words loud in his head. "I went to give the tattoo artist a piece of my mind about giving a drunk bloke a tattoo." 

"Jimmy." She rolled her eyes at him.

"Didn't work out…" he muttered. "He told me, he told me I was going to fight for Thomas, get him away from Philip by coming clean about how I felt… using the tattoo as proof." 

Ivy laughed. 

"It's not funny."

"No, but it sounds like you."

"It does?"

"What… impulsively come up with a plan like that. Yes." 

"It wasn't impulsive."

"How so?"

"Been designing this bloody thing in my head for months… maybe since the moment, Thomas came up with the idea. It was a good day, he and I were just…. Together." 

"Maybe you were his muse."

Jimmy blushed and gapped at her. 

"Seems plausible."

"Whatever…" he looked away. "I just… I'm not. He deserves…better than me."

"What?" Ivy stared at him.

"You heard me. I'm not… He's brilliant. Look what he can do?" He grabbed his watch out of her hands. "He's rich, and he's so put together, he knows what he wants, and he doesn't question anything… why'd he want a fuck up like me?"

Ivy punched him in the arm.

"Ow."

She hit again.

"Ow…" he moved away from her on the piano. "What the hell?"

"You idiot."

"Established."

"You're… you, Jimmy. Impulsive and an idjit. And since when do you not know you're brilliant?"

"What?"

"Did your Ego take a Christmas vacation?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Ugh… You're brilliant. As brilliant as him, if not more I'd say."

"Meaning?"

"Look at your arm."

He sighed as he glanced at the tattoo.

"You've been designing that? All that detail? In your head?"

"Yeah…"

"You managed to get a total stranger to render your vision on your skin while drunk off your head?"

"Well yeah…"

"Yeah, you're proper brilliant. Artistic and talented. What you do with music is amazing… even when you playing just be loud and drowned out your thoughts you're amazing. That was the best noise I ever heard."

Jimmy rolled his eyes. 

"You know you're talented."

"Look where I am… I teach, I don't do anything with it."

"Please… You have a demo."

"That I sent out and no one has responded too…"

"It's soon yet."

"That isn't even the point…" he muttered. "I'm not… good enough."

"You are."

"You're biased."

"What about him?"

"What about him?"

"Jimmy… He wants ya, he loves ya… He wants forever as you said. Doesn't he get a say? Maybe instead of hiding or pushing him away -- or whatever idiotic move you made, you should talk with him about it."

"But…"

"Do you want him?"

"Yes."

"Do you love him?"

"Yeah…"

"Show it to him, Jimmy," Ivy said and tapped his forearm with her finger. "Show him. Do what you told that tattoo artist you wanted to do… because if you got that on your arm, I'm betting it's the truth."

"I…"

"Jimmy if you let him go because you're having some weird out of character crisis of ego… You will never forgive yourself." 

"How do you know?"

"I'm wise," she grinned.

"No you're not."

"Well, I know you… and I really don't want you scowling around for the year because you let Thomas get away. He makes you happy, I've seen it… and I like it. We all like it. You're less moody." 

"I'm not moody."

"Pfft." 

"I just…" 

"Jimmy, go see him," Ivy kissed his cheek. "Let's have our dinner after Christmas -- just this year -- cause you need to go see him."

"But."

"Stop running," she snapped and got off the piano bench. "Don't screw this up." 

Jimmy watched her leave and closed his eyes. Maybe she was right? Maybe he should listen to her? He'd never leave that down… But? He held up the watch with his right hand, right over the tattoo and looked at them…

Could he be on the same page as Thoams, totally sober?

~~~

"This is becoming a habit." 

"It is," Daisy said as she stood up from where she sat in front of Thomas' door. "Are you really just getting home?"

"Been in my lab, working."

"Since yesterday?"

"I rather be there, but employees reminded me of the holiday."

"It's a good one."

"I can't be bothered, but I see Sybbie tomorrow, and that's what matters."

"You're going to her grandparents?"

"They invite me every year -- it's for Sybil." 

"It's sweet. You and her, you'd make a great dad."

That made him freeze, and he stared at her. "What?"

"You'd make a great dad…. Please don't tell it's never crossed your mind. I see how you talk about Sybbie."

"Would have to have a relationship first…" Thomas muttered. "And that's not going to happen."

"What? I thought you and Jimmy were good?"

Thomas laughed and opened his door. The two of them walked into the apartment, and he flicked on the lights, including the Christmas lights. Daisy blinked a few times and looked around. "Did you add lights?"

"A bit," he muttered.

"Knew you liked them," she grinned and poked him in the side.

He smiled. 

"What happened?"

His face fell. "I pushed it."

"Pushed what?"

"I shouldn't have done it, and now he's run a mile -- and it's over."

"No."

Thomas shot her a look. "It is."

"No," she shook her head. "You two, you two have something, it's this thing. You can't look away from it."

Thomas couldn't look at her. It felt true. He thought he felt it. When they were together. A weight. A pull. Like something was telling him not to allow for any empty space between them. It was too wide, they belonged together. He felt Jimmy was the sun and it was the place where Thomas felt warm. But it wasn't true, it was wishful thinking….

"He doesn't want what I want."

"Which is?"

"Forever…" Thomas sighed.

"I think he does."

"You don't know him… He's never been serious about anyone."

"Is about you… don't look at someone the way he looks at you if you aren't in it."

"I gave him… I put my heart out there, and he's shoving it away… It's not happening." Thomas pulled off his coat, threw it over his couch and walked to his liquor cabinet. He pulled out the brandy and poured himself a generous cupful. "Want?"

"No." She said and took the glass out of his hand. "Neither do you."

"Yes, yes I bloody do."

"You need to go see him."

"No, I don't."

"Yes, you do. Thomas this is Jimmy… I've seen you two together, and even if I haven't, we've talked about him. You've talked about him. You brighten up and you almost like a different person when you're talking about him. Around him. I learned you have dimples and it's beautiful. You've wanted him for so long and now that you two have one blip you're just giving up?"

"He made it clear he doesn't want…"

"I don't know what he did, but I guarantee he's just being an idiot. And isn't that part of his charm?"

"He's not an idiot. He's bloody brilliant, just a bit impulsive and I was obviously a impulse, and now that he's thought…"

"You two need to talk… you don't know what he's thinking do you, at all?"

"He let me leave."

"And maybe he regrets it?"

"Haven't heard from him."

"Fight for him," Daisy yelled.

"But…"

"Fight for him? Didn't you tell me to fight for Andy?"

"Did I?"

"In so many words. You told me to talk with him, not assume, not freak out… talk to him. It was beautiful and adult advice. So, take your own advice and don't give him up on him!"

"He…"

"Hurt you, I get it… but maybe you two can get past it. Fight your corner, Thomas Barrow." 

"Talk with him. Make it your Christmas present to yourself. Don't lose him without a fight…" she threw his coat at him. "Go."

Thomas felt himself put on his jacket. Daisy's words echoing in his head and his broken heart started to pound. It wanted him to try, everything in him was screaming that she was right…

Fight for Jimmy.

He found himself hurrying out his door and pressing the button on the elevator desperately. 

"Good boy," Daisy said as she went into her own flat.

He pressed the button again and thought about taking the stairs. When the doors slid open, and he found himself staring directly into Jimmy Kent's blue, blue eyes. They were wide, and he looked out of sorts, but relief flitted through his features as he met Thomas' gaze.


	21. Chapter 21

December 24th tick tocking into Christmas 

They haven’t spoken. They walked into Thomas’ living room. Both of them shedding coats. Thomas noticed it was snowing again and something about it made him breathe easier. He went back to his brandy, pouring Jimmy one and adding a bit more to his glass. Their fingers brushed as he passed the glass to Jimmy. Their eyes meeting for a brief moment… 

A lot like the look they shared at the elevator. Relief and happiness flickering in both of their eyes. But it was awkward. Thomas found he didn’t know how to start. Where to start? He felt like it wasn’t meant to be up to him. Jimmy was the one holding the invisible baton that was being tossed between them since the beginning of all of this…

Though when was the beginning? The day met, years ago, or the day both finally spoke aloud about wanting each other, wanting to touch and how they finally kissed. Desperate and leading somewhere — until it wasn’t. 

“You moved everything around?” Jimmy spoke suddenly breaking the silence. He was staring directly at the tree that he, Daisy and Andy erected in Thomas’ living room. “Added more lights and baubles too…” Jimmy shook his head and smiled at him. 

“Not much, just fiddle with it a bit.” 

“Control freak,” Jimmy chuckled his tone fond, and Thomas felt his insides wobble. 

“You aren’t here to talk about my decorations…”

“No.”

“Why then Jimmy?” 

Jimmy sighed. 

Thomas held his breath, until he couldn’t anymore. He sighed, and Jimmy shot him a look, expression laced with guilt and things Thomas couldn’t read. He took a long sip of his brandy and watched as Jimmy mirrored him. He shook his head, frustrating making him move. He found himself in front of his wide windows, staring at a sheet of falling snow. It was memorizing, it was distracting but not quite distracting enough. He felt Jimmy move next to him and their shoulders could’ve been touching. If either of them just decided to nudge in the right direction. 

“You scare me….” Jimmy muttered.

“Don’t be daft,” Thomas stared at him mouth open. 

“It’s true….” Jimmy sighed again. “You’re. This man. This adult person… All in love with his work, perfect godfather to his goddaughter… Always look so impeccable, it’s like you’re always dressed up, and you look so damn good all the time… I just want to muss you up.”

“Then muss me up,” Thomas whispered out.

Jimmy smirked at him but looked away again, far too quickly. “I’m nothing.”

Thomas could only stare at him like he was mad. 

“I am… I’m just this impulsive, do what I want, never really think all that far ahead idiot. I think, it just, I wonder how the hell we became friends sometimes… cause I’m lazy and a kid most of the time.”

Thomas snorted. 

“Just true.”

Thomas shook his head. “No.”

“Yes?”

Thomas rolled his eyes. “You’re brilliant.”

“No.”

“Cleverest bloke I know… witty, well read, you… what you can do with music. You’ll be amazing.” 

“Be, right…”

“Yes… So, you’re being slow to do anything. You sent out that demo, someone will listen to it. Someone will hear what I know.”

“Which is what?”

“Jimmy Kent is singular. No one sounds like him, and the world needs that sound.”

Jimmy smiled but looked away. 

“Since when are you not confident?”

“All the time, but you know that…”

“Know it’s true too, not just bravado.”

“Same as you, right?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” Jimmy turned to him and pinned him with a hard stare, but the confusion in his expression was sincere.

“Why do I…” Thomas felt it punch him before the word left his chest. “Love you?”

“Yeah..”

“I do,” Thomas shrugged. “I just do… You made Sybbie laugh, you were… funny and witty. And I felt stunned by you when we were looking right at each other… I never look at people like that, like this…” their eyes were locked. 

“Yeah, me either.” 

“Jimmy… you made me laugh, and you kept up with me. Cheeky and a bit of a bastard. I don’t have to… pretend to be nicer than I am.”

Jimmy snorted. 

“We’re friends?” Thomas asked. 

“Yes, mates forever…” Jimmy nodded.

“I love you.”

“It’s so easy for you?” Jimmy asked.

“It’s you.”

“But you kept it… you never said until recently.”

Thomas sighed. 

“I know I could’ve said something sooner too…”

“Did we wait too long?” Thomas asked, and fear made him look away from Jimmy.

Jimmy drank down the rest of his brandy. Thomas never knew his heart could be so fast and he pressed a hand against the cold glass of the window. He watched Jimmy without looking at him directly. Saw his profile and his jaw clench and unclench. He was looking downward, and then he turned around and walked over to the liquor cabinet and poured himself more brandy. 

“It’s a lot…” he said, his voice low as he walked back up to Thomas. “It’s a lot because we went zero to 100… And that’s you, it’s you, and I kind of love it but it’s freaking me out.”

“We can slow down,” Thomas muttered but…

“Yeah, right,” Jimmy laughed. “No, we can’t.”

“Then?”

“I just… not sure I deserve you.”

“You're being daft.”

“You’re biased,” Jimmy laughed. “I thought… it’s stupid, but a part of me made myself believe you never saw me the way I wanted you too. But I’ve always known I’ve got wrapped around my finger, Thomas. You see me, and you see someone I’m not…”

“I know who you are…” Thomas sighed. “I love you and maybe I… I just know you’re it.”

“And so are you…” Jimmy sighed. “But you promised me forever after one kiss.”

“I’ve wanted to give you that for years.”

“It’s probably good you didn’t ask right away… It’s not that I don’t want forever, Thomas. I just know how to do it.”

“Day by day?”

Jimmy nodded. “I… Need to tell you something, and it’s… I don’t know, what you’ll think.”

“What?”

“See… the thing is I freaked out about the watch. It meant so much, and I don’t think I really helped you all that much with the watch…”

“You did, Jimmy.”

Jimmy nodded. “I freaked out because it was practically…”

“A proposal?”

“Yeah…. You daft fool.”

Thomas laughed and found himself looking into Jimmy’s eyes again.

“I freaked out about the watch because I was already freaking out about… something that said the same thing.”

“Uh… what?”

Jimmy took a long and deep breath. Thomas watched the air go into his lungs and watched him slowly breathe it out. As he did he pulled up the sleeve on his left arm. Thomas' eyes fell to the ink, there, it was dark, and it covered his whole forearm. The only lights in the room where from the tree but it was enough to make out what was on Jimmy’s skin. Thomas breath hitched, and he stumbled a bit, stepping into Jimmy’s space, and his hand grabbed Jimmy’s forearm from underneath. He tugged him closer and stared at what was inked into Jimmy’s skin…

A watch. His watch. A perfect artistic rendering. He saw the time. The time. 3:15 pm… A time he looks forward to every week, with impatience and anticipation — even though he can see Jimmy anytime, he wants now. But for months, in the beginning, it was his only chance, to see him, to see his face and his smile. To hear him playing around the piano because he always ended his lessons showing off a bit to his students. 

“Jimmy…” he breathed out as he caught sight of his name on the hour hand. It was gold. But that was Jimmy’s color. He swallowed but his throat was dry, and his head was spinning. 

“Yeah…I know…” Jimmy breathed. 

“When did you?”

“When I got drunk, when I thought you were out there getting it back on with Philip.” 

“I told you…”

“I was an idiot. Jealous and upset… It felt like I lost you and I drank so much.” 

“And you got this?”

“Yeah… but I don’t remember. I found the guy who did it, tried to give him a piece of my mind about it all. But he said I didn’t seem drunk, he said I was exact about every line of it… He said I had a plan. I was going to find you and tell you I loved you, fight for you…. I wish I remembered it. I wish I remember being so clear about it all. Ivy says it sounded impulsive and just like me but…”

“But..” Thomas prompted. 

“But, been designing this tattoo in me head for months. Months. It wasn’t… I wanted it but told myself I’d never get it. But here it is… and I know what it means, and it scares me.”

Thomas shook his head. 

“It does…” Jimmy snapped. 

“I….” Thomas closed his eyes. “You think it doesn’t frighten me? How I feel about you?”

“No.”

Thomas laughed. “Maybe, maybe it was why I was afraid to say anything. Thought if you if you didn’t feel the same… I wouldn’t be able to survive it but… lately, I thought I saw it in your eyes too. That thing we have, the weight of it and it scares me. Cause I do love you, I see you, and I feel like I’m staring at warmth itself. Maybe I do put you too high up, Jimmy but you’ve never let me down…”

“Yeah, until the other day…”

“Came to speak with me though didn’t you?”

“Yeah, well… Ivy told me I regret it and she was right… I had to tell you.” Jimmy looked at his arm. “Show you.”

Thomas nodded, and he traced the hour hand with his fingers. “I was coming to you. I was angry and mad. Wanted you to make the first move but… Daisy said I should fight and I knew she was right. You’re… Jimmy… We can do this.”

“Can we?”

“Yeah,” Thomas smiled and yanked on his arm, Jimmy stumbled into him, hands landing on his chest and then smoothing up onto his shoulders. Thomas grabbed onto Jimmy’s waist and pulled him in even more. “We fit.”

Jimmy grinned, and his forehead clunked into Thomas’ a bit hard, and they both laughed and pressed their heads together. Thomas closed his eyes and loved the pressure of it, the feel of Jimmy’ hands on him. Jimmy gulped and tightened his hold on Thomas’ shoulders. 

“You’re scared too,” he whispered.

“Yes,” Thomas said. 

“But you want too…”

“Never wanted anything more.”

Jimmy made a noise. “Me either, but…”

“Stop.”

“I don’t know how to do this.”

“Me either.”

Their eyes met again, and Thomas held his breath. Jimmy’s left hand moved to the back of Thomas' neck, and he let out a soft sigh. It was the sound of relief and a bit of a laugh. “I’ve been trying to tell myself I regret the tattoo, but I don’t… I can’t. I want us, crazy as it’s making me.” 

“Good…” Thomas whispered and his heart pounded. “I love it, Jimmy. It’s perfect. It’s…”

“Us.”

“Yes.”

“So, is this it?” Thomas asked. 

Jimmy looked at him.

“Are you being mine, forever, my Christmas present?”

Jimmy licked his lips, pressed Thomas head forward with his hand and their lips met in a brief, soft, perfect kiss. “Yes,” Jimmy spoke into his mouth before he kissed Thomas again, this time with passion. 

“Thank God,” Thomas laughed as he yanked Jimmy impossibly closer. 

The chimes started then, one of Thomas many clocks around the flat calling out the hour. It was Christmas itself now, and they both smiled into the kiss they weren’t about to break. “Merry Christmas,” Jimmy said, his breathe hot against Thomas’ jaw. “Merry Christmas.”


End file.
